* 

■ 


6  004 


Police 


OR, 

Boston  by  Daylight  and  Gaslight 


FOR 


T'W'O  HUNDRED  AND  FORTY  YE  YRS. 


% 


EDWARD  H.  SAVAGE. 


“  ’Tia  strange  but  true — for  truth  is  always  strange,  stranger  than  fiction.” — Byron, 


BOSTON: 

JOHN  P.  DALE  &  COMPANY, 

Pilot  Building,  27  Boylston  St. 


’-Vj'ON  CO!.;,;;;-  ..  .. 


HV~ 

2 1  Hi 


•"B7 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  187?,  by 
EDWARD  H.  SAVAGE, 

In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


RECORD  OF  THE  BOSTON  WATCH  AND 


POLICE . >...7-106  2 

POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 

A  STAMPEDE . 311 

A  CONFIDENCE  MAN . 193 

A  CHARM  GAME . 244 

ADVICE  TO  A  YOUNG  POLICEMAN . 341 

A  TRIP  AMONG  THE  SNOW  BANKS . 202 

A  CHAPTER  ON  HATS . 188 

A  WEDDING  IN  THE  TOMBS . 280 

A  KID  GAME . 381 

I  • 

BEGGARS . 184 

COMMERCIAL  STREET  FIRE.... . 217 

CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE . 136 

CHURCH  ROBBERY . 231 

CHOLERA  IN  1854 . 263 

CONSCRIPTION  RIOT . 347 

DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  BEEHIVE . 107 

DEATH  OF  A  FIREMAN . 167 

DEACON  PHILLIPS’S  OLD  STONE  HOUSE . 291 

FIGHT  WITH  JOHN  WELCH . 130 


V 


CONTENTS 


Page. 

GABRIEL  AND  HIS  HORN . 113 

GUESS  WORK . 117 

GIVING  A  DESCRIPTION . 316 

IMPERTINENT  POLICEMEN . 338 

JAKE  AND  HIS  BOYS . 155 

LIQUOR  LAW  DISCLOSURES . 249 

LITTLE  RAGGED  NELL . 397 

MY  FATHER’S  LIKENESS . . . 399  . 

MY  MOTHER’S  GRAVE . 402 

v  .  .  .  .  rag  2 

MARIA  WHIPPLE . 179 

MECHANICAL  BAKERY  EIRE . 223 

MY  OLD  GRAY  CAT . 229 

NOAH’S  ARK . 296 

NEW  CITY  HALL.  —  A  DREAM . 389 

OLD  BUILDINGS . 283 

PICKPOCKETS . 235 

POLICE  DESCENTS . 254 

RECOLLECTIONS  OF  COUNTRYMEN . 124 

RAT  PITS  . 160 

SMALL  MATTERS . . . 274 

THE  JOKING  LIEUTENANT . 147 

THE  OUTCAST . 171 

THIEVES  WITH  A  BAG . 198 

THE  LOST  TREASURE . 226 

TOEGH  CUSTOMERS . 321 

THE  OLD  ELM  ON  THE  COMMON . 334 

THE  DRAFT . , . 371 

THOMAS  SEMMES . 375 

THAT  LITTLE  CURL . 401 

VALUE  OF  CHARACTER . 277 

WOMAN’S  REVENGE . 221 

WATCHMAN’S  RATTLE . 143 


"PREFACE. 

- 

The  Author  of  this  volume  has  been  in  the  service  of  the 
Government  of  Boston  as  a  Police  Officer  a  large  number  of 
years,  and  has  very  good  reasons  for  feeling  a  deep  inter¬ 
est  in  the  history  and  welfare  of  his  adopted  city.  Under 
this  influence,  and  with  opportunities  offered  through  the 
courtesy  of  numerous  friends,  the  writer  has  devoted  much 
of  his  leisure  time  for  some  years  past,  in  collecting  mate¬ 
rial  for  a  Chronological  History  of  the  Town  and  City  of 
Boston  ;  and  although  the  collection  is  yet  incomplete,  it 
would  now  fill  a  large  volume. 

From  these  records  have  been  borrowed  the  materials 
that  compose  the  “  Chronological  History  of  the  Boston 
Watch  and  Police.”  The  work  has  been  prepared  with 
no  little  labor  and  care,  and  it  is  hoped  will  prove  of  interest 
and  value. 

The  duties  of  the  Police  Officer  afford  peculiar  opportu¬ 
nities  for  the  study  of  human  nature  ;  and  the  views  of  city 
life,  by  him  witnessed,  present  a  wide  field  not  only  for  the 
pen  of  the  novelist  or  critic,  but  also  for  the  hand  of  the 
philanthropist  and  Christian. 

The  writer  has  not  been  an  idle  observer  in  his  police 
life  ;  and  during  his  long  term  of  service,  no  day  has  passed 
that  he  has  not  made  a  note  of  some  passing  event.  Many 
of  these  notes  are  of  no  value  except  perhaps,  now  and 
then,  as  matters  of  reference.  Others,  consisting  mostly  of 
incidents  and  casualties,  may  be  of  more  or  less  interest, 
and  many  reflect  little  credit  on  those  most  intimately  con- 


6 


PREFACE. 


cerned.  Of  this  last  class,  few  will  ever  meet  the  public 
eye.  For  although 

“  Vice  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien, 

As  to  be  hated,  needs  but  to  be  seen ; 

Yet  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  her  face, 

We  first  endure,  —  then  pity,  — then  embrace.” 

And  again,  there  is  neither  profit  nor  honor,  in  exposing 
the  secrets  and  follies  of  others,  for  the  purpose  only  of 
holding  them  up  for  contempt  and  ridicule  ;  but  if  any  one 
should  here  recognize  his  own  identity  in  an  unenviable 
position,  let  him  improve  upon  the  past,  and  fear  nothing 
from  me  unless  the  case  demands  a  judicial  investigation. 

From  this  volume  of  memoranda  the  Author  has  selected 
such  as  are  believed  to  be  unobjectionable  and  of  interest ; 
and,  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  friends,  he  now  offers  to 
the  public  “  A  Chronological  History  of  the  Boston 
Watch  and  Police,”  together  with  his  own  “  Police 
Kecollections.” 

In  his  work,  the  writer  has  made  no  attempt  to  draw 
upon  the  imagination,  believing  that  truth  is  not  only 
stranger,  but  more  profitable  than  fiction.  Neither  does  he 
claim  for  himself  any  of  the  detective  tact  of  a  Hayes  or  a 
Eeed,  nor  for  his  “  Recollections  ”  the  historical  romance 
in  the  career  of  a  Vidocq  or  a  Jonathan  Wild.  They  are 
only  the  observations  of  a  plain  man,  told  in  a  plain  way, 
and  are  but  every-day  transactions  in  city  life. 

The  Author  hopes  to  be  forgiven  for  the  many  errors  not 
only  in  his  book,  but  in  his  life  ;  and  if  he  is  permitted  to 
reap  the  assurance  that  in  the  one  he  has  done  his  duty, 
and  in  the  other  he  has  been  successful  in  an  attempt  to 
please  and  instruct,  his  highest  aim  will  be  accomplished, 
and  his  fondest  hopes  realized. 


E.  H.  Savage. 


RE  COED 


OF  THE 

BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE 

FOR 

TWO  HUNDRED  AND  FORTY  YEARS. 


A  well-regulated  Police  is  the  strong  right  arm 
of  all  local  civil  governments  ;  its  presence  is  ever 
a  guarantee  of  peace  and  the  supremacy  of  law, 
and  a  safeguard  to  life  and  property. 

In  reviewing  the  history  of  the  “  Boston  Watch 
and  Police  ”  since  its  first  organization,  covering  a 
period  of  two  hundred  and  forty- two  years,  the 
limits  of  this  work  will  allow  but  a  brief  outline. 
In  fact,  its  character  and  duties  can  only  be  gath¬ 
ered  from  the  customs,  opinions,  and  tastes  of  the 
people,  —  the  nature  of  transpiring  events,  and  the 
peculiar  condition  of  things.  As  we  pass  along, 
“  catching  the  manners  living  as  they  rise,”  an 
attempt  will  be  made  to  give  a  “  bird’s-eye  view  ” 
of  the  character  of  the  times,  the  Internal  or  Police 
Regulations  of  the  town,  with  here  and  there  an 
inkling  of  the  civil  and  criminal  Jurisprudence. 

The  peninsula  now  called  Boston,  was  probably 
first  visited  by  Englishmen  in  the  year  1621.  A 


8 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


colony  of  English  emigrants  had  coftimenced  a  set¬ 
tlement  at  Plymouth  in  1620,  and  on  the  eigh¬ 
teenth  day  of  September,  the  year  following,  ten 
Englishmen  of  the  colony,  accompanied  by  three 
Plymouth  Indians  as  guides  and  interpreters,  set 
sail  in  a  “  Shallop,  to  visit  The  Massachusetts ,  for  the 
purpose  of  exploring  the  country  and  trading  with 
the  natives.” 

The  party  arrived  “  at  the  head  of  the  Bay  ”  the 
same  evening,  and  early  next  morning  they 
“  landed  under  the  cliff,”  supposed  to  be  on  the 
beach  at  the  foot  of  Copp’s  Hill. 

On  landing,  they  found  a  pot  of  lobsters  that 
had  been  left  unguarded  by  the  unsuspecting  na¬ 
tives,  which  they  without  ceremony  appropriated 
to  their  own  use  (the  Harbor  Police  had  not  been 
established  then  )  ;  after  which  they  started  over 
the  hill  in  search  of  the  inhabitants. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far,  however,  wrhen 
they  met  an  Indian  woman  going  for  her  property, 
little  dreaming  it  had  been  so  unceremoniously 
confiscated  by  her  civilized  visitors.  The  party 
seeing  that  their  mistake  was  about  to  be  de¬ 
tected,  concluded  to  “  fork  over  a  sum  of  hush 
money,  (the  Record  says,  “  they  contented  the 
woman  for  them,”)  and  the  matter  was  settled  with 
out  an  expose. 

The  party,  finally,  had  an  interview  with  the 
Sachem,  and  formed  a  treaty.  It  was  said  that 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


9 


“  He  submits  to  the  King  of  England,  on  our 
promising  to  be  a  safeguard  against  his  enemies.” 
The  agreement  was  undoubtedly  kept  by  one  party 
about  as  well  as  by  the  other,  as  it  does  not  appear 
that  the  visit  was  repeated  or  returned  for  years 
afterwards. 

In  the  summer  of  1630,  the  ship  Arbella,  with 
several  other  emigrant  vessels,  having  on  board 
Governor  John  Winthrop  and  party,  who  were 
called  the  “  Massachusetts  Company,”  arrived  at 
Salem  and  Charlestown,  and  commenced  perma¬ 
nent  settlements  there. 

At  this  time  the  peninsula,  which  by  the  Indians 
was  called  “  Shawmut,”  but  by  the  English  “  Tri¬ 
mountain,”  (because,  from  Charlestown,  “  the  west¬ 
erly  part  had  the  appearance  of  three  contiguous 
hills,”)  was  inhabited  by  only  one  white  man,  a 
Mr.  William  Blaxton  (or  Blackstone),  who  lived 
at  the  westerly  part,  near  where  is  now  Louisburg 
Square.  How  long  he  had  lived  here,  no  one 
seems  to  know  ;  he  was  not  here  in  1621,  when 
the  Plymouth  party  paid  their  first  visit ;  but  it 
was  said  he  had  a  house  and  garden,  which  indi¬ 
cated  an  age  of  seven  or  eight  years. 

Trimountain  was  then  described  as  being  very 
uneven,  abounding  in  hills,  hollows,  and  swamps, 
and  was  covered  either  with  wood,  or  blueberry 
and  other  wild  bushes,  and  abounded  in  bears, 


10 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


wolves,  snakes,  and  other  beasts,  birds,  and  reptiles 
too  numerous  to  mention. 

The  location  at  Charlestown  being  low,  wet,  and 
short  of  good  water,  in  a  few  weeks  proved  quite 
unhealthy,  and  Trimountain  offering  much  better 
inducements  for  a  settlement,  at  the  invitation  of 
Mr.  Blackstone  several  persons  went  over  to  dwell 
on  his  grounds,  till  it  was  finally  determined  to 
make  the  place  the  seat  of  Government  for  the 
colony ;  and  on  the  seventh  day  of  September,  at 
a  court  holden  at  Charlestown,  it  was  ordered  that 
Trimountain  be  called  Boston,  at  which  time  the 
settlement  of  Boston  has  since  been  reckoned,  the 
seventh  of  the  month  old  style  answering  to  the  sev¬ 
enteenth  according  to  the  present  reckoning.  The 
name  was  said  to  have  been  given  in  honor  of 
several  distinguished  persons  of  the  colony,  who 
were  emigrants  from  an  old  town  called  Boston  in 
Lincolnshire,  England. 

The  Massachusetts  people  in  their  new  homes 
were  almost  surrounded  with  a  wild,  unexplored 
wilderness,  inhabited  by  uncivilized  men,  whose 
numbers  and  strength  were  unknown,  some  of 
whom  it  was  said  would  u  tie  their  prisoners  to 
trees,  and  gnaw  the  flesh  from  their  bones  while 
alive.”  This,  perhaps,  had  its  influence  in  making 
Boston  the  seat  of  Government,  as  it  was  almost 
surrounded  by  water,  and  could  be  fortified  much 
easier  than  any  place  near  it. 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


11 


Although  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  were  at  first 
quite  numerous,  yet  not  until  1631,  (April  12), 
was  it  ordered  “  by  Court  ”  that  Watches  be  set  at 
sunset,  and  if  any  person  fire  off  a  piece  after  the 
watch  is  set,  he  shall  be  fined  forty  shillings,  or  be 
whipped.”  And  two  days  after,  it  was  said,  66  we 
began  a  Court  of  Guard  upon  the  Neck ,  between 
lloxburie  and  Boston,  whereupon  shall  always  be 
resident  an  officer  and  six  men.” 

This  was  an  organization  of  the  first  Boston 
Watch  ;  and  although  it  partook  more  of  the  char¬ 
acter  of  a  military  guard  than  otherwise,  it  was 
well  adapted  to  the  wants  of  the  people,  as  all 
Police  arrangements  should  be ;  and  was  probably 
continued,  with  greater  or  less  numbers,  till  the 
organization  of  a  watch  by  the  selectmen. 

For  several  years  after  the  settlement  of  Boston, 
“  The  Court,”  consisting  of  the  Governor,  Deputy 
Governor,  Secretary,  and  a  certain  number  of 
assistants,  constituted  the  Legislative,  Judicial,  and 
also  the  Executive  power,  not  only  of  Boston  but 
of  the  whole  colony ;  and,  judging  from  the  num¬ 
ber  and  character  of  their  laws,  and  the  frequency 
of  their  violations,  they  must  have  had  a  pretty 
busy  time  of  it.  Nor  was  there  then,  more  than 
now,  complete  perfection  in  the  executive,  for  at 
one  time  one  of  the  assistants  was  fined  five  pounds 
for  whipping  a  culprit  unlawfully,  no  other  assist¬ 
ant  being  present.  However,  in  time,  population 


12 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


j 


and  business  had  so  much  increased,  and  the  duties 
of  44  The  Court  ”  had  become  so  oppressive,  that  it 
was  deemed  expedient  to  institute  a  new  order  of 
things,  and  on  the  first  day  of  September,  1634,  a 
Town  Government  was  organized  for  Boston,  by 
choosing  nine  44  Townes  Occasions  ”  (Selectmen), 
and  various  other  officers,  for  superintending  the 
local  affairs  of  the  town,  the  name  of  William 
Chesebrough  first  appearing  on  the  records  as 
Constable . 

From  the  first,  the  people  had  plenty  of  44  Court,1 ” 
yet  a  grand  jury  was  not  organized  till  September 
1,  1635,  and  that  was  none  too  soon,  for  at  its  first 
setting  it  was  said  they  found  “  over  one  hundred 
presentments,  and  among  them  were  some  of  the  Mag¬ 
istrates.” 

Although  a  Watch  had  been  established  as  early 
as  1631,  it  does  not  appear  that  the  authorities  of 
the  town  assumed  the  prerogatives  of  its  appoint¬ 
ment  and  control  till  the  twenty-seventh  day  of 
February,  1636,  when,  at  a  Town  Meeting,  44  upon 
pryvate  warning,  it  was  agreed  y1  there  shalbe  a 
watch  taken  up  and  gone  around  with  from  the 
first  of  the  second  month  next  for  ye  summertime 
from  sunne  sett  an  houre  after  ye  beating  of  y° 
drumbe,  upon  penaltie  for  every  one  wanting 
therein  twelve  pence  every  night.” 

The  organization  of  a  Town  Watch  here  estab¬ 
lished,  under  various  names  and  hundreds  of  dif- 


'.V.'v  • '  ■> '  4*  : 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


13 


ferent  modifications  (with  perhaps  the  exception 
of  a  brief  period  during  the  Revolution),  has  ex¬ 
isted  to  the  present  time.  The  duties  of  the  Watch, 
as  appears  by  the  order,  were  to  be  performed  in 
turn  by  the  inhabitants ;  they  were  not  4 4  citizen 
soldiers,”  but  citizen  Watchmen,  and  having  an  in¬ 
terest  in  their  work,  no  doubt  did  it  well.  What 
their  duties  wTere  is  not  laid  down  in  the  record, 
and  can  only  be  inferred  from  the  condition  of 
things  at  the  time. 

The  dwellings  of  the  inhabitants  had  mostly 
been  thrown  up  in  a  hurry,  with  such  material  as 
was  at  hand,  and  were  built  of  wood  or  mud  walls, 
thatched  roof  and  stick  chimneys,  plastered  with 
clay this  left  them  particularly  exposed  to  fire, 
and  a  fire  in  those  days  was  a  calamity  indeed. 
There  were  numerous  straggling  Indians,  who  paid 
their  nocturnal  visits  from  the  wilderness,  and  they 
were  not  over  scrupulous  in  relation  to  etiquette 
or  the  ownership  of  property.  There  were  also 
among  the  inhabitants  (if  we  believe  the  report),  a 
set  of  knaves,  thieves,  and  burglars,  of  their  own 
44  kith  and  kin.”  Wolves  and  bears  were  also  nu¬ 
merous,  and  came  into  Boston  even,  and  carried 
off  young  kids  and  lambs.  Nor  was  this  all ;  mas¬ 
ters  were  sorely  annoyed  by  the  frequent  desertions 
of  their  slaves  ;  for  Boston  men  had  slaves,  and  not 
only  black  slaves,  but  white  ones.  (At  one  time  a 

ship-load  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  Scotch  em- 

2 


14 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


igrants  were  sold  in  Boston  to  pay  their  passage  ;) 
and  these,  especially,  were  prone  to  take  French 
leave  of  their  masters  the  first  opportunity,  prefer¬ 
ring  a  wild  life  and  a  wigwam  with  liberty,  to  civ¬ 
ilization  and  bondage. 

These  and  attending  circumstances  would  plainly 
indicate  what  might  be  the  nature  of  the  duties 
required  of  the  Town  Watch  at  that  time. 

1637.  This  year  Rev.  John  Wheelwright  was 
banished  from  Boston  for  entertaining  heretical 
opinions,  and  the  year  following  Dorothy  Talbe,  a 
poor  insane  woman,  who  killed  her  child  to  save  it 
from  being  miserable  hereafter,  was  hanged.  It 
was  believed  that  the  devil  prompted  her  to  do  it, 
and  hanging  her  would  punish  him.  It  was  said 
that  Mr.  Peters  and  Mr.  Wilson,  the  ministers, 
went  with  her  to  the  place  of  execution,  but  they1 
“  could  do  her  no  good.” 

1639.  Edward  Palmer  was  employed  to  build 
the  stocks  (a  place  in  which  to  set  criminals  for 
punishment)  ;  when  completed,  he  presented  his 
bill  of  £1.  13 s.  7 d.  This  was  thought  to  be  exor¬ 
bitant,  and  poor  Palmer  got  placed  in  his  own 
machine,  and  fined  five  pounds.  The  next  year 
Hugh  Bewett  was  banished,  “  for  maintaining  that 
he  was  free  from  original  sin.” 

1645.  The  inhabitants  were  not  allowed  to  en¬ 
tertain  strangers,  for  fear  they  might  become  pau¬ 
pers,  and  a  law  was  passed  forbidding  any  person 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


15 


to  swear  an  oath  ;  44  and  if  an  Indian  powwow,  he 
shall  pay  10s.  and  stop  powwowing.”  No  house 
shall  be  sold  without  liberty  from  the  Selectmen. 

1648.  Margaret  Jones  was  hung  for  witch¬ 
craft.  44  A  little  child  was  seen  to  run  from  her, 
and  when  followed  by  an  officer,  it  vanished.”  This 
sealed  her  fate.  Her  husband,  Thomas,  attempted 
to  escape  on  a  vessel  for  Barbadoes,  but  the  ship 
being  in  light  ballast*  and  having  on  board  eighty 
horses,  44  fell  a  rolling.”  An  officer  was  sent  for, 
and  when  he  came,  one  said,  “  you  can  tame  men, 
can’t  you  tame  the  ship  ?  ”  Said  the  officer,  draw¬ 
ing  a  warrant,  44  I  have  here  what  will  tame  her,” 
and  arrested  Jones.  66  At  that  instant  she  began 
to  stop,  and  stayed,  and  when  Jones  was  put  in 
prison  moved  no  more.” 

1650.  The  court  passed  a  law  forbidding  the 
wearing  of  44  great  boots,”  and  other  extravagant 
articles  of  dress,  unless  the  wearer  was  worth  two 
hundred  pounds.  —  Oliver  Holmes  was  whipped  for 
being  a  Baptist.  Some  persons  who  shook  hands 
with  him  after  the  whipping,  were  fined,  and 
others  whipped. 

1652.  Fires  began  to  do  much  damage,  and 
ladders  and  swabs  were  to  be  prepared  by  the  in¬ 
habitants  to  extinguish  them,  and  44  Bell  Men  shall 
goe  aboute  ye  town  in  ye  night,  from  ten  to  five 
o’clock  in  ye  morninge.” 

1655.  The  people  were  very  poor,  and  money 


16 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


scarce,  taxes  were  paid  in  rye,  peas,  and  com,  and  no 
man  was  allowed  to  carry  more  than  twenty  sh.il- 
.  lings  out  of  town. 

165*7.  “  Christopher  Holder  and  John  Gope- 

.land,  Quakers ,  were  whipped  through  town  with 
knotted  cords,  with  all  the  strength  the  hangman 
could  command.  The  prisoners  were  gagged  with 
a  stick  in  the  mouth,  to  prevent  their  outcries.” 
Horred  Gardner,  a  Quakeress  with  a  child  at  her 
breast,  was  brutally  wdiipped ;  and  when  liberated, 
knelt  down  and  prayed  for  her  persecutors.”  The 
year  following,  the  penalty  of  death  was  added  to 
the  law  against  Quakers. 

1659.  William  Robinson  and  Marmaduke  Ste¬ 
phenson,  men  of  irreproachable  character,  were 
hanged  to  the  limb  of  a  tree  on  the  Common,  as 
Antinomians  and  heretics.  When  dead,  they  were 
rudely  cut  down  by  the  hangman,  Robinson  falling 
so  as  to  break  his  skull.  Their  friends  were  not 
allowed  their  bodies,  but  they  were  stripped,  and 
cast  naked  into  a  hole,  without  any  covering  of 
dirt,  and  were  soon  covered  with  water.”  “  A  Mr. 
Nichols  built  a  fence  about  the  place  to  protect 
them.”  Mary  Dyer  was  to  have  been  hung  at  the 
same  time,  but  was  reprieved  for  a  season.  Peter 
Pearson,  Judith  Brown,  and  George  Wilson,  were 
whipped  through  the  town  to  the  wilderness,  tied 
to  a  cart-tail,  “  the  executioner  having  prepared  a 
cruel  instrument  wherewith  to  tear  their  flesh.” 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


17 


These  were  no  solitary  instances,  but  the  heart 
sickens  at  the  thought,  and  we  gladly  drop  the 
curtain  over  these  scenes  of  cruelty  and  bloodshed. 

1661.  “  Ordered  y*  ye  constables  begin  their 

rounds  from  May  first  all  night.” 

1665.  Sir  Robert  Carr,  sent  over  by  the  king 
to  modify  the  abuses  of  the  Colonial  Government, 
spent  his  time  on  Sunday  at  a  noted  tavern  called 
“  Noah’s  Ark,”  in  Ship  Street.  The  Governor 
issued  a  warrant  against  Sir  Robert,  for  violation 
of  the  Sunday  law,  and  Richard  Bennett,  the  Con¬ 
stable,  was  sent  to  make  the  arrest.  Sir  Robert 
caned  the  officer,  and  sent  him  away.  The  Gov¬ 
ernor  then  sent  a  summons  for  Sir  Robert  to 
appear  before  him,  but  he  would  not  come.”  Ar¬ 
thur  Mason,  a  spirited  officer,  was  then  sent  to 
bring  Carr,  when  some  high  words  arose  between 
the  officer  and  Carr,  and  ere  long  poor  Mason 
found  himself  in  prison  for  attempting  to  obey  his 
superior,  and  was  eventually  fined  for  an  honest 
effort  to  do  his  duty,  the  Governor  being  glad  to 
find  a  scapegoat  in  the  person  of  his  subordinate, 
whereby  to  escape  punishment  himself  in  abusing 
the  King’s  agent. 

1670.  An  Indian  hung  in  gibbets  on  Boston 
Common,  for  the  murder  of  Zachary  Smith  in 
Dedham  woods. 

1672.  Governor  Bellingham  imprisoned  George 

Heathcock  for  neglecting  to  take  off  his  hat  when 

2* 


18 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


he  came  to  bring  a  letter.  —  “  Boston  had  fifteen 
hundred  families,  and  there  were  not  twenty  houses 
that  had  ten  rooms  apiece.  There  were  no  musi¬ 
cians  by  trade.  A  dancing  school  was  set  up,  but 
it  was  put  down.” 

1676.  A  terrible  fire  destroyed  all  the  build¬ 
ings  between  what  is  now  Richmond,  Hanover, 
Clark  streets,  and  the  water.  Soon  after  this, 
cages  were  set  up  about  town  to  put  violators  of 
the  Sabbath  in,  and  constables  were  ordered  to 
“  search  out  and  arrest  Quakers.”  Margaret 
Brewster  went  into  the  South  Church,  and  pro¬ 
nounced  her  curse.  She  had  her  face  blackened, 
and  wore  sackcloth.  Margaret  was  hurried  off  to 
jail,  and  brought  to  court  next  day.  She  had  been 
washed,  and  the  officer  could  not  identify  her,  but 
she  wTas  whipped. 

1679.  A  fire  consumed  eighty  buildings,  near 
the  dock.  A  Frenchman,  “  who  was  suspected  ”  of 
setting  the  fire,  was  sentenced  to  stand  in  the 
pillory,  to  have  both  ears  cut  off,  pay  charges  of 
court,  give  five  hundred  pounds  bonds  with  sure¬ 
ties,  and  stand  committed  till  sentence  was  per¬ 
formed.  (Query.  What  would  have  been  the 
sentence  if  there  had  been  proof  of  guilt  X) 

1686.  It  was  said  the  affairs  of  the  town  were 
much  neglected  in  consequence  of  trouble  with  the 
Home  Government.  The  charter  had  been  taken 
away.  Town  officers  were  officers  no  longer,  and 


j 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


19 


the  people  were  disfranchised,  and  the  agents  of 
the  Home  Government,  without  having  an  interest, 
had  the  control  of  the  town.  Town  meetings  held 
but  once  a  year. 

1689.  Governor  Andros  got  into  a  quarrel  with 
the  people,  who  became  exasperated,  and  the  Gov¬ 
ernor,  for  safety,  fled  to  the  castle,  and  from  thence 
to  a  man  of  war  lying  in  the  harbor  ;  but  the  cap¬ 
tain  of  the  frigate  being  on  shore,  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  people,  and  would  not  let  the 
frigate  fire  on  the  town,  for  fear  of  his  own  safety. 
Governor  Andros  was  finally  given  up,  put  in  jail, 
and  sent  home  to  England. 

1692.  Governor  Phipps  arrived  in  Boston  with 
a  new  charter.  —  Giles  Corey  was  pressed  to  death 
for  being  a  wizzard.  —  A  cage  and  watch-house 
had  been  built  near  the  market. 

1698.  A  Mr.  Ward,  who  visited  New  England 
this  year,  said  of  Boston :  66  The  buildings,  like 

their  women,  are  neat  and  handsome,  and  their 
streets,  like  the  hearts  of  their  men,  are  paved 
with  pebbles.  They  have  four  churches,  built  with 
clapboards  and  shingles,  and  supplied  with  four 
ministers,  —  one  a  scholar,  one  a  gentleman,  one  a 
dunce,  and  one  a  clown.  The  captain  of  a  ship 
met  his  wife  in  the  street  after  a  long  voyage,  and 
kissed  her,  for  which  he  was  fined  ten  shillings. 
What  a  happiness,  thought  I,  do  we  enjoy  in  old 
England,  where  we  can  not  only  kiss  our  own 


20 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


wives,  but  other  men’s,  without  a  danger  of  pen¬ 
alty.”  So  much  for  Mr.  Ward. 

1701,  At  town  meeting,  44  Watchmen  are  en¬ 
joined  to  be  on  duty  from  ten  o’clock  till  broad 
daylight.”  44  They  are  to  go  about  silently  with 
watch  hills ,  not  using  any  bell,  and  no  watchmen  to 
smoke  tobacco  while  walking  their  rounds  ;  and 
when  they  see  occasion,  to  call  to  persons  to  take 
care  of  their  light.”  — 44  Those  intending  to  build, 
must  have  permission  of  the  Selectmen.” — 44  Many 
ordinaries,  beer-shops,  and  stands  out  of  doors  were 
licensed.”  —  44  Several  persons  warned  out  of  town 
for  fear  they  will  become  paupers.”  — 44  Three 
warehouses  near  the  dock  were  blown  up  with 
powder,  to  stop  the  progress  of  a  fire.” 

1703.  John  Barnard  built  a  watch-house  for 
the  town  at  North  End,  with  a  sentry-box  on  top 
of  it ;  and  another  near  the  powder-house  on  the 
Common.  —  April  24.  The  first  newspaper  in 
North  America,  issued  by  John  Campbell,  post¬ 
master. 

1707.  The  main  street  towards  the  South  End 
paved.  Three  hundred  pounds  appropriated  to 
support  the  Watch.  Twelve  wMchmen  were  em¬ 
ployed  at  forty  shillings  a  month.  James  Thornby 
and  Exercise  Conant,  overseers  of  the  watch. 
Watch  rules  and  regulations  adopted. 

1708.  The  various  streets,  over  one  hundred  in 
number,  named  and  recorded  in  the  Town  Book.— 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


21 


The  town,  petitioned  the  legislature  for  an  act  of 
incorporation  as  a  city. 

1709.  Town  officials  fined  for  neglect  of  duty. 
A  minister  said,  “  The  covetous  office-holders  are 
intent  on  gain ;  sometimes  they  are  contriving  to  re¬ 
move  obstructions,  sometimes  to  prevent  discovery; 
sometimes  in  supplanting  rivals,  they  spend  many 
hours  in  imagining  mischief  upon  their  beds.”— The 
watch  increased  to  fifteen.  They  petition  for  leave 
to  prosecute  those  who  abuse  them  while  on  duty. 

1710.  Fortification  rebuilt  on  the  Neck,  com¬ 
posed  of  brick  and  stone,  across  Washington  at 
Dover  Street,  as  now  named,  extending  to  the  sea 
on  the  east,  and  south  to  where  is  now  Union 
Park,  having  a  parapet  on  which  to  place  a 
cannon,  with  gates  for  teams  and  foot  passengers 
at  the  street.  —  Watch-boxes  set  up  in  various  parts 
of  the  town.  —  Male  and  female  Indians  sold  at 
auction  as  servants. 

1711.  A  terrible  fire  consumed  the  old  town- 
house,  and  about  one  hundred  buildings  about  it, 
including  the  first  meeting-house.  Many  persons 
were  killed  by  blowing  up  houses.  Several  sailors 
perished  in  the  flames,  in  trying  to  save  the  church 
bell.  One  hundred  and  ten  families  were  made 
homeless.  —  Fire-wards  appointed.  They  were  u  to 
carry  a  staff  five  feet  long,  colored  red,  with  a  bright 
brass  spike  at  the  end,  six  inches  long,  and  have 
power  to  command  all  persons  at  fires.”  —  Bounties 


[ 


22 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


for  Indian  scalps  paid  in  Boston. — Deaths  in  town 
during  the  year;  whites,  305;  negroes  and  Indians, 
58.  .  • 

1713.  George  Brownell  44  teaches  writing,  ci¬ 
phering,  dancing,  treble  violin,  English  and  French 
embroidering,  flourishing,  plain  work,  and  mark¬ 
ing.”  —  Numerous  colored  people  advertised  for 
sale.  —  The  half  bushel  of  a  countryman  selling 
turnips  at  the  dock,  was  found  to  be  small.  A 
justice  ordered  the  measure  stove  to  pieces,  and 
the  turnips  given  to  the  poor.  —  A  Mr.  Bacon, 
going  with  a  team  over  the  Neck  one  winter  night, 
lost  his  way,  and  both  he  and  the  team  perished 
with  cold. 

1714.  Two  men  added  to  the  watch,  and  44  two 
sober,  discreet  men  to  have  charge  thereof.”  —  The 
watchhouse  near  the  townhouse  to  be  removed, 
44  and  set  by  the  schoolhouse  in  Queen  Street,  and 
a  cage  to  be  added.”  Also  ordered,  that  44  the 
wliipping-post  be  removed  thereto.” 

1715.  There  were  four  watchhouses ;  one  in 

Clark  Square,  one  near  the  Conduit,  one  near  the 
schoolhouse,  Queen  Street,  and  one  at  South  End, 
with  about  four  watchmen  at  each.  The  watch 
went  on  duty  at  nine  o’clock  p.  m.  in  winter,  and 
ten  o’clock  p.  m.  summer,  remaining  till  daylight 
next  morning,  at  forty  shillings  per  month.  There 
were  twro  overseers.  —  The  town  was  divided  into 
eight  wards  this  year,  three  of  which  were  north 
of  Mill  Creek.  ^||^| 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


23 


1718.  Mary  Porcell,  Abigail  Thurston,  and 
Esther  Ray,  were  publicly  whipped  for  being 
night-walkers,  and  afterward  fined  ten  shillings 
each. 

1720.  44  Ordered ,  That  trucks  shall  be  no  more 
than  eighteen  feet  long,  tires  four  inches  wide ; 
two  horses  to  one  team,  and  one  ton  load.” 

1721.  A  great  linen  wheel-spinning  exhibition 
on  the  Common,  where  44  all  classes  met  and  vied 
with  each  other  in  skill.  A  great  concourse  of 
people  from  town  and  country.” 

1722.  Boston  contained  ten  thousand  six  hun- 
dred  and  seventy  persons ;  four  thousand  five 
hundred  and  forty-nine  lived  north  of  Mill  Creek. 
There  were  said  to  be  one  thousand  brick,  and 
two  thousand  wood  houses,  forty-two  streets, 
thirty-six  lanes,  twenty-two  alleys.  —  The  watch 
reduced  to  twelve  men;  the  south  watch  discon¬ 
tinued. 

1723.  Five  divisions  of  the  watch  established, 
and  called  the  44  Old  North,  New  North,  Dock 
Watch,  Townhouse  Watch,  and  South  Watch. 
The  names  indicated  the  locality.  The  South 
watch  were  supposed  to  be  located  in  a  narrow, 
one-story  brick  house  in  Orange  Lane,  which  was 
recently  to  be  seen  at  No.  518  Washington 
Street  (another  story  having  since  been  added), 
and  which  was  occupied  for  a  watchhouse  over 
one  hundred  years.”  There  were  five  watchmen 


24 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


at  each  house.  They  were  ordered  to  “  walk  their 
rounds  slowly  and  silently,  and  now  and  then  stand 
still  and  listen.” 

1725.  A  lad  aged  seventeen  years,  for  abusing 
some  smaller  children,  sentenced  “  to  be  whipped 
thirty-nine  stripes  at  the  cart  tail,  twelve  at  the 
gallows,  thirteen  at  the  head  of  Summer  Street, 
thirteen  below  the  townhouse,  and  be  committed 
to  Bridewell  six  months.”  —  Hoop  petticoats  were 
a  subject  of  ridicule  in  Franklin’s  newspaper.  He 
advertises,  “  Hoop  Petticoats,  just  published  and 
sold  by  the  printer,  arraigned  and  condemned  by 
the  light  of  nature  and  law  of  God  —  price  3 d” 

1726.  William  Fly,  Samuel  Cole,  and  Henry 
Grenville,,  hung  for  piracy.  Two  days  before 
execution  they  were  taken  to  Mr.  Colman’s 
church,  to  listen  to  a  sermon,  for  which  they 
cared  little.  Fly  was  hung  in  gibbets  on  an 
Island  in  the  harbor.  The  wind  whistling  through 
his  bones  many  months  after,  was  a  warning  to 
sailors  passing  in  and  out -of  the  harbor. 

1727.  The  General  Court  passed  laws  prohibit¬ 
ing  violations  of  the  Sabbath,  such  as  swimming, 
unnecessary  walking  in  the  highways,  in  fields,  or 
on  the  Common ;  violators  “  to  be  put  in  jail,”  “  set 
in  the  stocks,”  &c. 

1728.  Henry  Phillips  and  Benjamin  Wood- 
bridge,  two  aristocratic  youths,  got  in  a  quarrel  at 
Royal  Exchange  Tavern,  went  to  the  Common,  and 


BOSTON  WAJCH  AND  POLICE. 


25 


fought  a  duel  with  swords.  Woodbridge  was  run 
through  the  body  and  killed,  and  Phillips  made  his 
escape.  Shortly  after,  a  law  was  made  against 
duelling.  The  offender  was  to  be  “  carried  in  a 
cart,  with  a  rope  about  his  neck,  to  the  gallows,  to 
sit  thereon  one  hour,  and  be  imprisoned  twelve 
months  ;  ”  the  person  killed  “  to  be  buried  with  a 
stake  driven  through  his  body,  and  stones  piled  on 
his  grave.”  —  Eatable  polls  in  Boston,  about  three 
thousand.  —  Governor  Burnet  quarrelled  with  the 
House  of  Representatives,  and  removed  the  gen¬ 
eral  court  to  Salem. 

1730.  Boston  cast  530  votes.  The  following 
Town  Officers  officiate :  Town  Clerk,  1 ;  Select¬ 
men,  9 ;  Treasurer,  1 ;  Overseers  Poor,  8  ;  Asses¬ 
sors,  7 ;  Constables,  16 ;  Sealers  of  leather,  5 ; 
Clerks  of  Market,  8 ;  Measurers  of  boards  and 
shingles,  7;  Fence  viewers,  7;  Scavengers,  16; 
Hogreeves,  4 ;  Watchmen,  25.  It  does  not 
appear  that  the  town  held  any  centennial  celebra¬ 
tion  of  its  settlement,  but  Mr.  Prince  preached  a 
sermon  to  the  legislature,  in  which  he  says,  <c  A 
flood  of  irreligion  and  profaneness  has  come  in 
upon  us,  —  so  much  terrible  cursing  and  swearing, 
lying,  slandering,  and  backbiting,  cruel  injustice, 
oppression,  rioting,  and  drunkenness.” 

1732.  The  town  had  seven  fire  engines,  and 
eighty-seven  firemen.  It  was  said  that  “  John  and 
Thomas  Hill  have  a  newly  constructed  engine  at 

3 


26 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


their  Distil  House,  drawn  by  a  horse,  that  throws 
a  great  quantity  of  water  twelve  feet  high.  It  is 
a  great  improvement,  and  the  first  of  the  kind.” 
—  The  Selectmen  authorized  to  award  faithful 
watchmen,  44  not  exceeding  ten  shillings  a  month.” 

1733.  At  town  meeting,  an  application  was 
made  to  have  Mathew  Young  appointed  watchman, 
44  that  he  and  his  children  do  not  become  a  town 
charge.”  —  The  whipping-post  that  had  been  blown 
down  was  44  ordered  to  be  set  up  near  the  town 
house  Watchhouse.” 

1734.  Three  market-places  established,  44  one 
in  Orange  Street,  one  in  Dock  Square,  and  one  in 
Market  Square.”  —  A  mob  demolished  a  house  of 
ill-fame,  under  the  countenance  of  some  well- 
meaning  Magistrates.”  —  The  town  voted  to  build 
a  workhouse.  —  The  weight  of  bread?  was  estab¬ 
lished,  bakers  to  put  their  initials  on  each  loaf. 

1735.  Watchmen  44  Ordered  to  cry  the  time  of 
night  and  state  of  the  weather,  in  a  moderate  tone, 
as  they  walk  their  rounds  after  12  o’clock,  —  One 
o’clock,  clear,  and  all ’s  well.”  Boston  divided 
into  twelve  wards,  names  dropped,  and  numbers 
used  instead.  —  Thirty  shillings  a  winter  allowed 
each  watchhouse  for  coal. 

1736.  Porters  to  be  licensed,  and  to  44  wear  a 
badge  with  the  figure  of  a  Pine  Tree.”  —  The 
number  of  watchmen  reduced  to  sixteen,  watch- 
houses  four,  viz  :  44  Old  North,  New  North,  Town- 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


'2r 


house,  and  South  End.”  —  The  badge  of  the  over 
seers  to  be  “  a  quarter  pike  ;  ”  “  one  watchman  to 
attend  at  each  watchhouse  door  all  night,  to  in¬ 
spect  persons.” 

1737.  A  workhouse  built  near  the  Granary 
and  a  house  at  Rainsford  Island  for  persons  with 
contagious  diseases.  —  Quarantine  established. 

1739.  John  Chambers  and  other  gravediggers 
inform  the  Selectmen,  that  The  Johnson  and 
Granary  burial-grounds  are  so  full,  they  are  ofttimes 
obliged  to  bury  four  deep. —  The  School  Commit¬ 
tee  reported  that  “  there  are  five  schools,  with  595 
scholars,  all  satisfactory.”  —  Dock  Square  Market- 
house  tom  down  by  a  mob. 

1740.  The  overseer  of  the  watch  petitioned  to 
have  a  coal-hole  door  to  a  watchhouse  repaired. 
—  The  watch  ordered  “  to  look  out  for  disorderly 
Negroes  and  Indians.”  —  There  were  fifteen 
churches  in  Boston. 

1741.  William  Shirley,  Esq.,  an  Episcopa¬ 
lian,  was  appointed  Governor  of  the  Province.  — 
Fifty-five  persons  in  the  workhouse. 

1742.  There  were  said  to  be  in  Boston,  16,382 
inhabitants,  1,200  widows,  1,719  dwelling-houses, 
116  warehouses,  1,514  negroes,  418  horses,  141 
cows. 

1746.  “The  Justices  in  town  agree  to  walk 
and  observe  the  behavior  of  the  people  on  Lord’s 
day.”  —  A  law  passed  to  prevent  firing  guns. 


28 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


1747.  A  riot  occurred  on  the  wharves,  by 
Commodore  Knowles  pressing  laborers  into  service. 
—  The  Townhouse  again  destroyed  by  fire  ;  valu¬ 
able  ancient  books  destroyed. 

1748.  Able-bodied  watchmen  allowed  seven 
pounds,  ten  shillings  per  month,  but  fined  twenty 
shillings  for  getting  asleep  on  duty. 

1749.  Some  Englishmen,  for  their  own  amuse¬ 
ment,  got  up  theatrical  exhibitions  at  the  Royal 
Exchange.  Some  interlopers,  endeavoring  to  force 
an  entrance,  the  matter  became  public,  and  the 
Exhibition  was  broken  up. — Written  rules  pre¬ 
pared  for  the  government  of  the  watch. 

1750.  A  Town  meeting  called,  and  a  remon¬ 
strance  formed  against  the  duty  levied  on  tea, 
coffee,  chaises,  coaches,  and  various  other  articles, 
which  operated  unequally  and  unjustly  on  the 

1751.  The  General  Court  authorized  a  lottery 
to  raise  $  26,700,  for  supplying  the  Treasury, 
lion.  Mr.  Watts,  manager.  Office  at  Faneuil  Hall. 
Tickets,  $  f3.00  each. 

1752.  By  an  act  of  British  Parliament,  this 
year  began  on  January  1,  instead  of  March  25, 
as  heretofore ;  and  all  Deeds  and  Public  Docu¬ 
ments,  began  to  be  dated  to  correspond.  The  old 
style  followed  the  Julian  method  of  computing  the 
months  and  days  in  the  calendar,  as  established  by 
Tulius  Caesar,  in  which  every  fourth  year  consists 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


29 


of  366  days,  and  the  other  years  of  365  days. 
This  is  something  like  11  minutes  in  a  year  too 
much.  Pope  Gregory  Thirteenth  reformed  the 
calendar  by  omitting  10  days  in  October,  1552,  in 
order  to  bring  back  the  Vernal  Equinox  to  the 
same  day  as  at  the  Council  of  Nice,  A.  D.  325  ; 
which  reformation  was  followed  by  Parliament,  as 
above  stated,  by  which  11  days  in  September,  1752, 
were  left  out,  calling  the  3d  the  14th.  This 
mode  of  reckoning  is  called  “  New  Style,”  accord¬ 
ing  to  which,  every  year  divisible  by  4,  unless  it 
is  divisible  by  100,  without  being  divisible  by  400, 
has  366  days,  and  every  other  year  has  365  days. 

1753.  A  revolting  spectacle  in  King  Street. 
“  A  female,  accused  of  lewdness,  was  exposed  nearly 
naked  on  a  scaffold  near  the  Townhouse,  for  the 
space  of  an  hour,  facing  each  of  the  four  cardinal 
points  fifteen  minutes,  suffering  the  most  disgust¬ 
ing  and  brutal  treatment  by  a  mob.” 

1754.  It  was  said  that  Benjamin  Eranklin 
“  has  greatly  surprised  and  obliged  the  world,  by 
the  discovery  of  the  Electrical  Substance,  as  one 
great  and  main  instrument  in  lightning  and  thun¬ 
der.” —  Thomas  Williston  appointed  Captain  of 
Watch.  —  Concert  Hall  built.  —  Elizabeth  Creigh¬ 
ton  whipped  for  cohabiting  with  a  negro. 

1756.  In  consequence  of  numerous  evening 
processions  got  up  by  the  lower  clases,  and  ending 

often  in  bloodshed,  a  law  was  passed  to  prevent 

3* 


30 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


such,  assemblages.  —  The  Common  burial-ground 
was  purchased  of  Mr.  Andrew  Oliver. 

1757.  Although  there  was  a  law  against  lot¬ 
teries,  the  Town  was  carrying  on  one,  and  on  one 
occasion  the  inhabitants  were  notified  that,  “  If 
they  do  not  adventure  before  a  given  day,  they 
will  be  excluded,  as  the  Town  had  voted  to  take 
all  unsold  tickets  to  itself.”  —  Another  lottery  was 
also  got  up  to  raise  money  to  pave  the  highway. 

1760.  A  terrible  fire  near  Oliver’s  Dock.  A 
subscription  of  $  28,000  was  raised  for  the  suffer¬ 
ers,  who  were  each  required  to  bring  in  a  schedule 
of  their  loss.  Mrs.  Davis  presented  the  following. 
“Lost  in  the  fire,  March  20,  1760,  a  velvet  jacit 
and  pr  close  Briches,  2£.  8 s.  0 d.  ;  a  dark  alpine 
Peticote,  £1.  45.  Od. ;  seven  Shetes,  £1.  6s.  0 d. ; 
Baby  linings  ;  one  doz.  Dipers,  Clotes,  £1.  145. 
8 d. ;  one  new  warming  Pan,  £0.  105.  0 d.  ;  one  half 
dozen  pewter  Plates,  £1.  05.  0 d. ;  one  Meal  Barrel, 
£0.  85.  0 d. ;  half  dozen  Chiny  Tea-cups  and  Sar- 
sers,  £0.  65.  0 d.  ;  Bosten  Errus  exsepted,  lawful 
Munny,  £7.  I65.  8d.”  At  this  fire  it  was  said  350 
buildings  were  burned,  and  1,000  people  left  with¬ 
out  homes. 

1763.  Serious  difficulties  arose  between  the 
Itevenue  officers  and  the  people.  —  James  Otis  de¬ 
livered  his  “  remarkable  speech  against  the  Writs 
of  Assistance,  in  the  Council  Chamber,  old  Town- 
house.”  It  was  said  that 65  then  and  there  was  In- 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


31 


dependence  born.”  —  The  terms  Whig  and  Tory 
begin  to  be  used. 

1765.  Captain  Semmes,  of  the  South  watch, 
reported  that  “Negro  Dick  came  to  the  watch- 
house,  and  reported  rowdies  under  his  window. 
Watchmen  were  sent,  and  met  a  gang  of  rowdies, 
one  of  which  drew  a  sword.  The  watch  cried 
murder  and  fled  to  the  watchhouse,  and  the  row¬ 
dies  escaped.”  — The  Union  Club  (or  Sons  of  Lib¬ 
erty)  formed  under  the  great  Elm,  which  on  the 
14th  of  August  was  christened,  “  The  Tree  of  Lib¬ 
erty.” —  The  house  of  Governor  Hutchinson,  and 
several  other  government  officers  mobbed. 

November  5.  This  was  the  anniversary  of  the 
discovery  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot,  in  which  Guy 
Eawkes  figured,  in  1605.  Pope’s  day,  however, 
originated  in  1558,  on  the  accession  of  Queen  Eliz¬ 
abeth.  At  first,  the  Pope  and  the  Devil  were  the 
only  pageants,  but  it  afterwards  became  somewhat 
changed.  These  anniversaries  had  long  been  cele¬ 
brated  in  Boston,  and  for  several  years  the  compe¬ 
tition  between  the  North  and  South  Ends,  had 
caused  two  celebrations.  The  programme  on 
these  occasions,  was  to  form  processions  at  head¬ 
quarters,  and  march  through  the  streets,  collecting 
contributions  as  they  passed,  to  carry  on  the  cele¬ 
bration  ;  and  woe  to  them  who  did  not  contribute. 
A  pageant  accompanied  the  procession,  consisting 
of  figures  mounted  on  a  platform  on  wheels,  and 


32 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


drawn  by  horses.  These  figures  generally  repre¬ 
sented  three  characters,  —  the  Pope,  Devil,  and 
Pretender,  with  sometimes  the  addition  of  obnox¬ 
ious  political  characters.  (The  Pretender,  wras 
James  Francis  Edward,  and  his  effigy  was  added 
in  1702.) 

Under  the  platform  were  placed  half-grown  boys, 
with  rods  extending  up  through  the  figures,  to 
cause  them  to  face  to  the  right  or  left,  and  to  rise 
up  and  look  into  people’s  windows.  In  front  of 
the  procession  might  be  seen  a  fellow  with  a  bell, 
who  notified  the  people  of  their  approach,  and 
who  would  chant  something  like  the  following :  — 

44  Don’t  you  remember  the  fifth  of  November, 

The  Gunpowder  treason  and  plot  ? 

I  see  no  reason  why  gunpowder  treason  should  ever  be 
forgot. 

From  Pome  to  Pome  the  Pope  is  come,  amid  ten  thousand 
fears, 

With  fiery  serpents  to  be  seen,  at  eyes,  nose,  mouth,  and 
ears. 

Don’t  you  hear  my  little  bell,  go  chink,  chink,  chink? 
Please  give  me  a  little  money ,  to  buy  my  Pope  some 
drink.” 

The  two  celebrating  parties  in  Boston,  after  hav¬ 
ing  marched  about  town,  generally  met  near  the 
Mill  Creek,  where  a  desperate  fight  tvould  ensue 
for  the  possession  of  the  effigies,  and  bloody  noses 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


33 


and  broken  bones  w^ere  often  the  result.  If  the 
South  were  victorious,  the  trophies  went  to  the 
Common ;  if  the  North ,  Copp’s  Hill  was  the  rendez¬ 
vous,  where  the  pageantry  was  burnt.  This  year 
the  two  parties  formed  a  union,  and  union  Pope 
was  celebrated  till  the  Revolution. 

1769.  In  consequence  of  existing  difficulties, 
the  watch  were  ordered  “  to  patrol  two  together,” 
“  to  arrest  all  negroes  found  out  after  dark  without 
a  lantern.”  It  was  said  soon  after  the  order  was 
given,  “  an  old  darkle  was  picked  up  prowling 
about  in  total  darkness.”  Next  morning,  when 
asked  by  the  magistrate  if  guilty,  he  replied  “  No, 
sa,  I  has  de  lantern,”  holding  up  before  the  aston¬ 
ished  court,  an  old  one ,  innocent  of  oil  or  candle. 
He  was  discharged,  and  the  law  amended,  so  as  to 
require  “  a  lantern  with  a  candle.”  Old  Tony  wTas 
soon  up  again  on  the  same  complaint,  and  again 
entered  a  plea  “  not  guilty,”  and  again  drawing 
forth  the  old  lantern  with  a  candle ;  but  the  wick 
had  not  been  discolored  by  a  flame.  The  defend¬ 
ant  was  discharged  with  a  reprimand,  and  the  law 
was  made  to  read,  u  a  lantern  with  a  lighted  can¬ 
dle.”  Old  Tony  was  not  caught  again,  having 
been  heard  to  remark,  “  Massa  got  too  much  light 
on  de  subjec.”  —  Sheriff  Greenleaf  was  ordered  to 
“  cause  a  new  gallows  to  be  erected  on  the  Neck, 
the  old  one  having  gone  to  decay.” 

1770.  The  Revenue  troubles  continued  under 


34 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


great  excitement.  The  ladies  formed  a d  “  Anti 
tea-drinking  Society.”  —  A  custom-house  informer 
shot  a  boy  in  the  street  near  Faneuil  Hall. 
—  March  5.  The  Boston  Massacre  occurred  in 
King  Street,  near  Flag  Alley,  in  which  Samuel 
Gray,  Crispus  Attucks,  and  James  Caldwell  fell 
dead.  Samuel  Maverick  died  next  day;  Patrick 
Carr  died  in  nine  days  ;  and  others  were  badly  in¬ 
jured  by  the  discharge  of  firearms  in  the  hands  of 
British  soldiers.  The  troops  soon  after  evacuated 
the  town,  and  went  on  board  their  ships  lying  in 
the  harbor. 

1773.  December  16.  The  Boston  Tea  Party 
emptied  three  hundred  forty-two  chests  of  tea  into 
the  sea.  The  article  was  on  board  three  vessels, 
lying  at  Griffin’s  (Liverpool)  wharf,  and  the  work 
was  done  in  three  hours.  The  Tea  Party  were  in 
Indian  costume,  and  went  from  the  Old  South 
Church. 

1774.  June  1.  Boston  Harbor  was  closed  as 
a  port  of  entry,  no  vessel  being  allowed  to  go  in  or 
out,  and  the  collection  of  customs  was  removed  to 
Salem.  —  Eleven  military  regiments  were  quar¬ 
tered  in  town. 

1775.  Every  entrance  into  town  was  guarded 
by  soldiers,  and  sentinels  were  posted  in  all  the 
streets. — -April  18.  The  Beacon  Pole  was  taken 
down,  and  a  small  square  fort  built  in  its  place.  — 
June  17.  The  battle  of  Bunker  Hill.  —  General 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


35 


Howe  had  his  head-quarters  in  the  belfry  of 
Christ’s  Church  during  the  battle.  The  alms¬ 
house,  manufactory  house,  workhouse,  and  many 
private  houses,  filled  with  wounded  British  sol¬ 
diers. —  July  12.  The  inhabitants  of  Boston  held 
a  town  meeting  at  Concord.  —  Negroes  were  sum¬ 
moned  by  General  ITowe  to  meet  at  Faneuil  Hall, 
to  form  a  scavenger  party.  Oscar  Merriam,  a 
sharp  old  Whig  darkie,  remonstrates,  and  gets  put 
in  Jail.  —  September  1.  A  party  of  British  soldiers, 
headed  by  Job  Williams,  cut  down  the  “  Tree  of 
Liberty ;  ”  one  jumped  upon  the  trunk  to  strike 
off  a  limb,  and  fell  dead.  —  October  8.  Governor 
Howe  issued  a  proclamation  forbidding  all  persons 
to  leave  Boston  without  a  pass,  “  on  penalty  of 
military  execution.”  Old  South  Church  was  oc¬ 
cupied  by  Burgoyne’s  Cavalry,  as  a  riding  school, 
with  a  liquor  bar  in  the  gallery.  “  The  pulpit  and 
pews  were  removed,  and  many  loads  of  dirt  carted 
in  to  make  the  floor.  The  South  door  was  closed, 
and  a  rail  was  there  fixed,  over  which  the  horses 
were  taught  to  jump.  An  old  lady  who  passed  that 
way  every  day,  used  to  stop  and  expostulate  with 
the  soldiers  in  their  sacrilegious  work,  and  at  one 
time  told  them  that  the  good  Dr.  Sewall  would  rise 
from  his  grave  and  appear  to  them.  Soon  after,  a 
superstitious  Scotchman  was  on  guard,  and  late  at 
night  got  terribly  frightened  at  something  he  im¬ 
agined  he  saw.  He  discharged  his  piece,  set  up  a 
hue  and  cry,  and  fled.  This  raised  the  Governor’s 


86 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


Life  Guard,  at  the  old  Province  House,  near  by 
(General  Howe’s  head-quarters),  and  a  general 
commotion  ensued  throughout  the  town.  On  being 
questioned,  the  guard  said  he  saw  approaching  a 
venerable  old  man,  in  a  great  wig  and  gown.  He 
was  only  pacified  by  being  told  that  Hr.  Sewall 
never  dressed  that  way.” 

1776.  January  11.  Major  Montgomery,  with 
one  hundred  men,  attacked  the  British  outposts  at 
Charlestown,  and  burnt  some  old  buildings.  On 
the  same  evening  the  Red  Coats  were  entertaining 
themselves  at  Faneuil  Hall  with  a  play  called 
“  The  Blockade  of  Boston.”  In  the  midst  of  the 
play,  a  person  came  forward  to  the  footlights,  and 
with  great  earnestness  proclaimed,  “  The  Yankees 
are  taking  Bunker  Hill !  ”  “  The  deluded  wretches 

thought  this  to  be  a  part  of  the  play,  and  cheered 
the  speaker  heartily.  But  soon  learning  that  the 
speaker  meant  to  represent  a  solemn  reality ,  the 
whole  assembly  left  the  house  in  the  greatest  con¬ 
fusion,  and  scampered  off  in  great  precipitation.” 
—  March  4.  The  Continental  army,  assisted  by  a 
large  body  of  militia,  were  carrying  on  the  siege  of 
Boston  with  great  vigor,  having  garrisons  at  Cob¬ 
ble  Hill,  Leclimere  Point,  and  Lamb’s  Ham  at  Box- 
bury.  “  Shot  and  shell  heard  to  make  great  crash¬ 
ing  in  Boston.”  —  March  17.  “  General  Washing¬ 
ton  secured  positions  in  Boxbury  and  Borchester 
to  command  Boston.  General  Howe  evacuated  the 
town,  and  retired  on  board  ships  in  the  Harbor, 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


37 


and  General  Putnam  took  possession  of  Boston 
•  ✓ 

in  the  name  of  the  Thirteen  United  States  of  Amer¬ 
ica."  During  the  bombardment  but  little  damage 
was  done ;  one  cannon  ball  went  through  the 
Lamb  Tavern,  another  struck  Brattle  Street  Church. 
The  last  was  picked  up  by  a  Mr.  Turell,  and  re¬ 
placed  where  it  struck  ;  it  was  cemented  in  the 
west  wall  of  the  church.  —  July  18.  “  The  people 

of  Boston  were  fast  returning  to  their  homes,  and 
pursuant  to  an  order  of  the  Honorable  Council, 
there  was  read  from  the  balcony  of  the  Town 
House,  “  The  Declabation  of  Independence,  passed 
by  the  American  Congress  on  the  4th  inst,  absolv¬ 
ing  the  United  Colonies  from  their  allegiance  to 
the  British  Crown.”  —  In  the  evening  a  large  num¬ 
ber  turned  out,  “  and  every  sign,  with  every  resem¬ 
blance  of  it,  whether  the  King’s  Arms,  pestle,  mor¬ 
tar  and  crown,  heart  and  crown,  and  every  sign 
that  belonged  to  a  Tory  were  taken  down  and  burnt 
in  King  Street.” — September  19.  Beacon  Pole 
again  raised  on  Beacon  Hill.  —  Several  persons  tried 
and  sent  out  of  the  States  as  Tories. 

1777.  September  1.  King  Street  to  be  called 
State  Street,  and  Queen  Street,  Court  Street. 
“  Several  persons  who  had  audaciously  made  them¬ 
selves  obnoxious  by  renouncing  their  trades  and 
commenced  dealing  in  monopolies,”  were  seized  and 
conveyed  out  of  Town  in  a  cart,  and  passed  from 

town  to  town  till  they  reached  the  British  Camp 

4 


38 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


at  Rhode  Island.  —  Several  persons  were  imprisoned 
for  exchanging  Continental  money  for  gold  at  a 
great  discount. 

1779.  May  1.  “The  great  and  General  Court 
passed  an  Act  confiscating  the  Estates  of  the  ene¬ 
mies  of  Liberty  for  the  benefit  of  the  Government.” 
“  A  convention  of  delegates  from  several  towns  met 
to  regulate  the  price  of  goods,  and  take  measures 
relative  to  trade  and  the  currency.”  —  July  21.  At 
a  town  meeting  at  Faneuil  Hall,  the  following  list 
sS  prices  were  established  :  — 


£. 

s. 

Windward  Rum,  per  gallon 

6 

6 

New  England  Rum,  per  gallon 

4 

16 

Molasses,  '  44 

4 

7 

Coffee,  per  pound 

0 

18 

Brown  Sugar,  per  pound  . 

0 

14 

Bohea  Tea,  44 

0 

15 

Salt,  per  bushel  .  .  • 

0 

9 

Indian  Corn,  per  bushel  •  . 

4 

10 

Rye,  44  .  • 

6 

00 

Wheat,  44  •  • 

9 

00 

Beef,  per  pound  .  •  • 

0 

6 

Mutton,  44  •  •  • 

0 

4 

Butter,  44  ... 

0 

12 

Cheese,  44  >  .  •  . 

0 

6 

Milk,  per  quart 

2 

Hay,  per  cwt.  .... 

2 

00 

Labor,  per  day  (find  themselves) 

5 

00 

Cloth  for  one  pair  leather  Breeches 

1 

15 

W.  I.  Rum  Toddy,  per  mug 

0 

18 

N.  E.  Rum  Toddy,  per  mug 

0 

12 

BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


39 


The  schedule  begins  with  rum,  and  ends  with 
toddy.  A  long  list  of  resolutions  were  passed,  the 
drift  of  which  indicate,  46  that  any  person  taking 
more  or  less  than  the  prices  fixed,  or  who  shall 
refuse  Continental  money,  shall  be  published  in  the 
papers,  considered  enemies,  and  treated  as  such  ;  ” 
and  a  committee  was  appointed  to  carry  the  resolu¬ 
tion  into  practice. 

1780.  May  19.  Darkness  prevailed  at  noon¬ 
day  throughout  New  England,  said  to  be  caused  by 
smoke  from  great  fires  in  the  woods  in  Maine  and 
New  Hampshire.  Many  people  greatly  frightened. 
A  Mr.  Willard  went  on  to  Boston  Common  to  make 
observations  ;  while  there,  a  crowd  collected,  and 
presently  a  man  came  up  in  breathless  haste, 
saying,  44  The  tide  has  ceased  to  flow.”  44  So  it  has 
for  to-day,”  said  Mr.  W.  pulling  out  his  watch, 
44  't  is  past  twelve  o'clock !  ” — Thomas  Gibbs  andEben 
Burbank  sat  on  the  gallows,  for  one  hour,  for 
counterfeiting  Continental  currency.  —  One  hundred 
dollars  in  silver  will  buy  four  thousand  in  Conti¬ 
nental  bills.  —  October  25.  Massachusetts  has  had 
no  governor  for  about  four  years.  John  Hancock 
chosen  Governor,  and  so  44  proclaimed  from  the  bal¬ 
cony  of  the  old  Town  House,  amid  the  ringing  of 
bells,  firing  of  cannon,  and  great  joy.” 

1781.  It  was  said  that 44  Boston  begins  to  revive 
under  the  supervision  of  the  Sons  of  Liberty.” 
—  November  14.  Great  display  and  rejoicing  in 


40 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


Boston  on  account  of  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis 
at  Yorktown,  19th  of  October. —  Hucksters  not  al¬ 
lowed  to  purchase  provisions  brought  into  Town 
before  one  o’clock,  if  they  intend  to  sell  them 
again.” 

1783.  The  inhabitants  notified  to  bring  in  their 
dirt  to  fill  up  the  Town  Dock.  —  Mr.  Robert 
Hughes,  the  Boston  Butcher,  gave  notice  to  drovers 
that  he  can  44  dress  two  hundred  hogs  or  fifty  beef 
cattle  in  a  day,  which  he  does  for  the  offal.” 

1784.  Mr.  Joseph  Otis,  the  jailer,  solicited  aid 
44  for  numerous  poor  debtors  confined  in  Boston 
jail,  who  are  suffering  with  hunger  and  from  the 
inclemency  of  the  weather.” 

The  judges  of  the  Superior  Court  44  appeared  in 
scarlet  robes,  and  the  barristers  in  gowns.”  —  An 
effort  made  to  make  Boston  a  city,  but  the  measure 
was  voted  down  in  Town  Meeting.  —  A  third  row  of 
trees  set  out  near  the  Mall  on  the  Common. — 
Numerous  persons  whipped  at  the  Post ,  in  State 
Street,  for  various  offences. 

1785.  May  5.  William  Scott  and  Thomas  Archi¬ 
bald  hung  on  the  Common  for  burglary.  —  July  4. 
It  was  said  that  44  vast  multitudes  this  day  declared 
themselves  independent.  The  Mall  on  the  Common 
is  filled  with  temporary  dram-shops,  and  cake  and 
ale  and  punch  undergo  a  rapid  annihilation.  The 
whole  rag-tag  and  bob-tail  gentry,  from  the  Birds 
of  Paradise  to  Barefoot  Molly,  are  in  their  glory 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


41 


and  meet  on  a  common  level.  Independence  is  the 
word,  and  the  sequel  will  show  many  independent  of 
common  sense .”  — A  code  of  Town  Laws  published, 
among  which  were  the  following,  viz:  44  to  prevent 
damage  by  brick  kilns  ;  ”  44  to  provide  town  bulls  ;  ” 
‘4  to  prevent  tan-pits  being  left  open  ;  ”  44  to  prevent 
gaming  in  streets  ;  ”  44  to  prevent  throwing  snow¬ 
balls  ;  ”  44  to  provide  for  sweeping  streets,”  &c.  &c. 
—  The  court  passed  a  law  that  44  all  idle  persons 
who  do  not  properly  do  their  stint,  shall  be  moder¬ 
ately  whipped.”  Convicts  began  to  be  .sent  to  the 
castle,  to  serve  their  sentence.  —  April  17.  Captain 
John  Ballard,  William  Billings,  Christopher  Clarke, 
and  Mr.  Webb,  appointed  Inspectors  of  Police. — 
The  Selectmen  employed  four  teams  to  remove  dirt 
from  the  streets.  Mr.  Gardner  appointed  to  try  all 
Town  law  violations.  —  June  17.  Charles  River 
Bridge  completed,  and  a  procession  of  twenty 
thousand  persons  passed  over  it.  Great  demon¬ 
strations  of  joy  in  town. 

1787.  At  the  session  of  the  Supreme  Judicial 
Court,  September  9,  the  following  sentences  passed  : 
44  One  burglar  to  be  hung  ;  five  female  thieves  to  be 
whipped ;  four  male  thieves  whipped ;  two  big 
thieves  to  sit  on  the  gallows  ;  one  counterfeiter  to 
stand  in  the  pillory,  and  have  right  ear  cut  off.”  — 
November  22.  John  Shean  hung  on  the  Common 
for  burglary  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Eliot.  — December 
10.  The  Town  purchased  two  and  a  third  acres  of 


42 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


land  of  William  Foster,  at  southeast  corner  of  the 
Common,  in  exchange  for  stores  on  a  wharf. — 
Merchants  began  to  number  their  stores  in  business 
streets. 

1788.  May  8.  Archibald  Taylor  and  Joseph 
Taylor  hung  on  Boston  Neck,  for  robbing  Mr.  Cun¬ 
ningham,  near  the  place  of  execution.  —  July  4.  A 
great  torchlight  procession  in  the  evening. 

1789.  January  8.  An  Englishman  gave  gym¬ 
nastic  entertainments  at  the  George  Tavern,  —  a 
great  novelty.  —  April  1.  John  Norman  published 
the  first  Boston  Directory,  containing  1,425  names. 
—  At  State  election,  Boston  cast  1,934  votes. — 
August  7.  Several  burglaries  having  been  com¬ 
mitted,  it  was  said,  “  It  is  high  time  the  watchmen 
were  overhauled ;  they  have  been  asleep  since  New 
Year’s.  The  Captains  are  generally  men  in  their 
prime,  aged  from  ninety  to  one  hundred  years,  and 
the  crew  only  average  about  fourscore,  and  so  we 
have  the  advantage  of  their  age  and  experience, 
at  least  the  robbers  do.”  —  October  8.  William  Dan- 
nesse,  William  Smith,  and  Bachel  Wall  hung  on 
Boston  Common  for  highway  robbery.  —  October 
24.  General  George  Washington  visited  Boston. 
A  great  day  in  town.  —  December  2.  A  dramatic 
exhibition  in  Boston.  To  avoid  the  law  and  obtain 
license,  it  was  called  “  School  of  Moral  Lectures .’ 

December  14.  The  highway  from  Boxbury  to 
Elliot’s  Corner  named  Washington  Street.  Gen- 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


43 


eral  Washington  came  over  it  when  he  entered  the 
Town  on  his  visit. 

1790.  September  1.  Boston  contained  18,038 
persons,  and  2,376  buildings.  —  September  16. 
Fourteen  persons  whipped  in  State  Street  for  crime. 
—  October  14.  Edward  Vail  Brown  (white),  and 
John  Bailey  (colored),  hung  on  Boston  Common, 
for  burglary. 

1793.  January  1.  Colonel  Josiah  Waters,  the 
newly  appointed  Inspector  of  Police,  gave  notice 
that  he  “  enters  upon  the  duties  of  his  office  with 
much  diffidence,  and  he  asks  the  assistance  of  the 
citizens  in  executing  the  by-laws.  Fie  calls  the 
attention  of  the  inhabitants  to  the  bad  condition  of 
wells  and  pumps  ;  recommends  increase  of  tire- 
buckets,  ladders,  fire-bags,”  &c.  He  gave  direc¬ 
tions  in  relation  to  the  management  of  teams,  and 
says  that  “  the  present  internal  arrangement  of  the 
Town  is  very  bad.”  —  January  24.  A  civic  feast 
was  held  in  Boston,  to  commemorate  the  success 
of  the  French  in  their  struggle  for  civil  liberty. 
“  The  dawn  was  welcomed  by  a  salute  from  the 
Castle,  Citizen  Bradley’s  Artillery,  and  by  citizens 
in  Liberty  Square.  At  eleven  o’clock  an  ox,  weigh¬ 
ing  1,000  pounds,  devoted  as  an  offering,  having 
been  roasted  whole  the  previous  night,  was  pre¬ 
pared  for  exhibition,  and  a  procession  was  formed, 
moving  in  the  following  order :  — 


44 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


“  Citizens  on  horseback,  with  civic  flags. 
“Citizen  Waters,  Marshal. 

“  C  ommittee  of  nine,  flanked  with  peace  officers 
“  Music,  full  band,  drums,  and  fifes. 

“  Citizens,  eight  and  eight. 

“  Twelve  citizens  in  white  frocks,  with  cleavers, 

knives,  and  steels. 

“  The  Ox, 

“  Elevated  twenty  feet  on  a  car,  drawn  by  fifteen 
horses,  ornamented  with  ribbons,  The  horns  of 
the  ox  were  gilded,  and  on  the  right  horn  hung  the 
French  flag,  and  on  the  left  the  American.  For¬ 
ward,  on  a  board  at  the  end  of  the  spit,  in  large 
gold  letters,  was  the  inscription  — 

“Peace  Offering  to  Liberty  and  Equality. 

“  Citizens,  eight  deep. 

“  Eight  hundred  loaves  of  bread,  drawn  by  six 

horses. 

Ac  A  hogshead  of  punch,  drawn  by  six  horses. 

“  Eight  hundred  loaves  of  bread,  drawn  by  six 

horses. 

“  A  second  hogshead  of  punch,  drawn  by  six  horses ; 
which  closed  the  procession. 

“  The  procession  moved  from  the  foot  of  Middle 
Street  through  various  streets  to  the  Common,  and 
from  thence  to  State  Street,  by  which  time  the 
punch  had  disappeared,  and  there  the  ox  was  carved, 
and  disposed  of  with  much  good  will.”  Another 
account  says :  “  When  the  procession  arrived  at  State 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


45 


Street,  the  punch  had  done  its  work  ;  but  few  could 
get  a  slice  of  the  ox,  and  he  who  did,  used  it  to 
grease  his  neighbor  s  face ,  and  the  scene  that  followed 
beggared  description.”  At  the  close  of  the  cere¬ 
monies  in  State  Street,  the  horns  of  the  ox  were 
laid  at  the  foot  of  the  liberty  pole  in  Liberty  Square, 
and  afterwards  placed  on  the  top  of  a  flag-staff 
raised  there.  A  few  months  after,  news  came  that 
Louis  XVI.  was  beheaded  three  days  before  the 
celebration,  and  the  head  and  horns  of  the  roasted 
ox  were  draped  in  mourning. 

1794.  February  3.  Mr.  Powell,  opened  the 
Boston  Theatre  in  Federal  Street.  —  July  30.  A 
terrible  fire  in  Green  Lane  (Atkinson  Street). 
Seven  ropewalks  and  forty-five  dwellings  burnt.  — 
Three  pirates,  named  Collins,  Poleski,  and  Fertidi, 
hung  on  Boston  Common. 

1795.  June  1.  A  new  Amphitheatre  established 
near  the  foot  of  the  Mall.  —  July  4.  Corner-stone 
of  new  State  House  laid.  —  September  14.  Mr. 

-  Bowen  raised  the  frame  of  the  Columbian  Museum 
at  the  head  of  the  Mall.  —  November  9.  The 
grounds  of  the  Almshouse,  Workhouse,  and  Gran¬ 
ary,  sold  at  auction. 

1796.  May  14.  The  Legislature  passed  a  code 
of  laws  relating  to  Watch  and  Wards  of  Towns, 
under  which  the  Boston  Watch  was  soon  after  re¬ 
organized.  —  Under  the  new  regulations,  the  Se¬ 
lectmen,  or  the  Constable,  were  to  charge  the  watch , 


46 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


“  to  see  that  all  disorders  and  disturbances  are  sup¬ 
pressed,  to  examine  all  persons  walking  abroad  after 
ten  o’clock  at  night,  who  they  have  reason  to  sus¬ 
pect,  to  enter  houses  of  ill-fame,  to  suppress 
disturbances,  and  to  arrest  all  violators  of  law  or 
disturbers  of  the  peace.  Watchmen  are  to  walk 
their  rounds  once  an  hour,  to  prevent  damage  by 
fire  and  to  preserve  order.”  Constables,  to  super¬ 
intend  the  watch  were  to  be  appointed  for  each 
house,  and  the  Selectmen  were  the  appointing  and 
supervising  power.  Under  the  new  organization, 
there  were  five  Watchhouses:  One  on  Ship  near 
Lewis  Street,  one  at  Town  Dock,  one  at  Town 
House,  one  on  Orange,  near  Eliot  Street,  and 
one  near  where  the  Itevere  House  now  stands,  with 
one  constable  and  about  six  watchmen  at  each 
house,  at  a  salary  of  sixty  cents  per  night  for  the 

constable,  and  fifty  for  the  watchman,  while  on 

* 

duty.  The  Watch  went  out  at  nine  o’clock  even¬ 
ings  in  winter,  and  ten  o’clock  in  summer,  remaining 
on  duty  till  sunrise,  one  half  going  out  alternately 
every  other  night,  carrying  with  them  their  badges 
of  office,  a  hook  with  a  bill,  and  the  rattle ,  an 
appendage  added  this  year.  —  December  26.  Hay- 
market  Theatre  opened,  on  Tremont,  near  West 
Street. 

1797.  February  3.  A  terrible  fire  burnt  the 
rope  walks  at  West  Boston.  —  April  6.  John 
Stewart,  hung  on  the  Common,  for  robbing  the 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


47 


house  of  Captain  R-ust,  in  Prince  Street.  His 
plunder  was  taken,  at  several  times,  and  hid  in  a 
tomb  on  Copp’s  Hill,  where  he  was  traced  and  de¬ 
tected  one  stormy  night.  —  October  12.  Stephen 
Smith,  a  colored  man,  hung  on  the  Common  for 
burglary.  He  confessed  setting  fire  to  several 
houses  to  get  plunder.  His  body  was  given  to 
physicians  for  dissection.  —  October  21.  The  Frigate 
Constitution  launched  from  Hart’s  wharf. 

1798.  January  11.  The  Legislature  met  at  the 
old  Town  House  for  the  last  time.  A  procession 
was  formed,  and  possession  taken  of  the  new  State 
House.  —  April  2.  Boston  cast  1,774  votes  for 
Governor.  A  bitter  feeling  between  parties  called 
the  Federal  and  Republican.  The  Federalists 
adopt  the  wearing  of  what  was  called  “  The  Amer¬ 
ican  Cockade”  a  rosette  of  black  ribbon  with  a 
white  button  in  the  centre.  —  September  15.  Sol¬ 
omon  Monroe,  selling  Jamaica  Pond  aqueduct 
water,  near  the  fish  market,  for  thirty  cents  a  hogs¬ 
head,  eight  cents  a  barrel,  and  one  cent  a  pail  full. 

1799.  December  24.  “  News  received  at  Boston 
that  General  George  Washington,  the  Father  of 
his  Country,  died  at  his  residence  at  Mount  Ver¬ 
non,  on  the  14th  instant,  age  67 :  minute  guns 
were  fired,  bells  tolled  throughout  the  day,  and 
the  Town  was  draped  in  mourning.” 

1800.  The  Town  officers  for  the  year  were  :  Se¬ 
lectmen,  9;  Board  of  Health,  12;  Overseers  Poor, 


48 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  VOLICE. 


12 ;  Fire  Wards,  20  ;  Assessors,  5  ;  Treasurer,  1 ; 
Clerk,  1 ;  Town  Advocate,  1  ;  Municipal  Judge, 
1 ;  ^Inspector  Police,  1 ;  Constables,  12  ;  Consta¬ 
bles  of  the  Watch,  4;  Watchmen,  20;  Collectors 
of  Taxes,  5  ;  Fence-viewers,  3  ;  Hogreeves,  3  ; 
Hay  Wards,  4  ;  Hemp  Surveyors,  2  ;  Wheat  Sur¬ 
veyors,  2  ;  Assay  Masters,  2  ;  Cullers  of  Fish,  3  ; 
Inspector  Lime,  1 ;  Cullers  of  Staves,  4 ;  Survey¬ 
ors  of  Boards,  11;  Sealers  of  Leather,  3.  —  The 
watchhouses  have  been  reduced  to  four,  —  one  on 
Ship  Street,  one  near  the  Market,  one  in  Orange 
Street,  one  near  the  State  House.  —  “  Complaints 
for  all  violation  of  by-laws,  to  be  made  to  the 
Inspector  of  Police,  who  is  at  his  office  from 
twelve  to  one  o’clock  each  day.”  —  The  Board  of 
Health  have  the  supervision  of  all  sanitary  ar¬ 
rangements  in  town.  —  July  4.  It  was  said,  “  The 
day  was  solemnized  with  acts  of  devotion  to  Al¬ 
mighty  God,  with  pomps,  shows,  games,  sports, 
guns,  bells,  flags,  bonfires,  and  illuminations  ;  and 
in  the  evening  fireworks  were  given  by  Captain 
Gardner’s  company,  at  the  Gunhouse  on  Copp’s 
Hill.”  Population  of  the  Town,  24,937.  Ratable 
polls,  4,103.  Votes  cast  at  State  Election,  2,149. 

1801.  March  12.  Charles  Bulfinch,  Esq., 
chosen  Chairman  of  the  Board  of  Selectmen,  and 
soon  after  Inspector  of  Police.  —  Constables  and 
watchmen  ordered  to  “  Report  all  violations  of  the 
By-laws.”  —  Subscriptions  raised  for  town  improve¬ 
ments.  A  brick  front  built  to  the  watchhouse  in 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


49 


Orange  Street.  (The  narrow  brick  building  lately 
standing  at  No.  518  Washington  Street.) 

1802.  January  23.  The  market-house  robbed. 
The  next  day  a  newspaper  paragraph  said,  44  It  is 
remarkable  that  the  broken  door  of  the  market- 
house,  is  just  forty  feet  from  the  watchhouse.”  — 
March  8.  Town  meeting ;  a  pickpocket  caught  in 
the  act,  beat  almost  to  death  and  then  sent  to  jail. 
—  May  18.  A  fire  broke  out  at  midday.  It  was 
said,  44  The  alarm  was  communicated  rapidly  by 
the  watchmen  stationed  on  Beacon  Hill.”  —  A  new 
almshouse  built  in  Leverett,  near  Spring  Street, 
On  the  front  was  the  figure  of  a  female  with  a 
child  in  her  arms.  44  In  one  part  was  a  work- 
house,  where  constables  commit  vagabonds  by 

orders  from  Overseers  of  the  Poor.”  December  13 

% 

Middlesex  canal  opened  for  transportation. 

1803.  March  15.  Robert  Pierpont  and  Abiel 
R.  Story  convicted  of  destroying  the  brig  Hannah 
to  defraud  the  underwriters.  They  were  sen¬ 
tenced  to  stand  in  the  pillory  two  hours,  and  to 
serve  two  years  in  State  Prison.  The  case  was 
one  of  great  interest.  —  Lottery  ticket  offices,  with 
a  horn  of  plenty  for  a  sign,  were  plenty  in  State 
Street.  Boarding-house  keepers,  tavern  keepers, 
and  carriage  drivers,  required  to  report  the  arrival 
of  all  strangers  to  the  Selectmen,  for  fear  of  a  ma¬ 
lignant  contagion  prevailing  in  New  York. 

1804.  April  9.  Town  meeting.  It  had  bee  i 

5 


50 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


the  custom  to  decide  questions  by  hand  vote.  To¬ 
day  an  attempt  was  made  to  divide  the  house  on  a 
question,  the  yeas  being  requested  to  go  out  of  the 
house  first,  which  they  refused  to  do ;  the  nays  were 
then  requested,  but  they  refused  also,  and  a  most 
ludicrous  scene  occurred.' —  The  nays  had  it.  — 
June  23.  An  underground  arch  was  discovered 
near  the  head  of  Lewis’s  Wharf,  fifty  feet  long, 
twenty  wide,  and  six  high,  the  mason-work  being 
perfect,  with  an  iron  gate  at  each  end.  All 
above  was  a  garden,  where  trees  were  standing, 
over  a  foot  through.  It  was  probably  an  old  wine- 
cellar.  It  was  said  that  Lord  Percy  hid  in  one  near 
Brattle  Square,  during  the  bombardment  by  Wash¬ 
ington,  in  1776. — August  1.  Great  funeral  pro¬ 
cession  on  the  death  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  killed 
in  a  duel  by  Aaron  Burr.  The  Selectmen  declined 
to  ring  the  bells  or  to  detail  constables,  lest  they 
implicate  the  Town,  —  “but  the  constables  may  go 
if  they  choose .”  —  October  10.  A  terrible  gale 
blew  down  the  steeple  of  Christ  Church,  and 
carried  away  the  tower  on  King’s  Chapel. 

1805.  It  was  said,  “  The  Mill  Pond  is  a  nuisance, 
full  of  putrid  fish  and  dead  dogs  and  cats.”  The 
Selectmen  petitioned  to  fill  it  up.  —  At  the  April 
term  of  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court,  one  John 
Nichols,  who  was  convicted  of  counterfeiting,  was 
sentenced  to  stand  in  the  pillory  one  hour.  It  was 
said  that  the  sentence  was  executed  the  twenty-sixth 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


51 


of  April,  and  it  is  believed  that  he  was  the  last 
actor  who  graced  the  boards  of  this  ancient  relic 
of  Puritanism.  Nichols  had  letters  of  favorable 
notice  from  President  Thomas  Jefferson,  and  an 
attempt  was  made  to  turn  Nichols’s  crime  to  political 
account.  The  pillory  and  whipping-post  stood  in 
State  Street,  below  the  Town  House,  nearly  oppo¬ 
site  the  Merchants’  Bank.  It  was  said  that  both 
were  removed  soon  after  the  sentence  of  Nichols. 
Whipping  was  practised  sometime  afterwards,  and 
was  executed  on  a  platform  on  the  Common,  near 
the  corner  of  West  Street.  The  platform  was  said 
to  be  “  put  up  temporarily,  when  occasion  required.” 
It  consisted  of  a  frame  work,  the  platform  reached 
by  stairs,  with  posts  raised  on  two  sides,  and  a  cap 
across  the  top  like  a  gallows,  but  no  drop.  A  pole 
stood  in  the  middle,  to  which  the  culprit  was  made 
fast  with  iron  shackles,  and  with  ankles  in  sockets, 
and  arms  extended  like  a  malefactor,  his  naked  back 
was  ready  for  the  lash.  Criminals  for  small  offences 
were  sometimes  exposed  on  this  platform  without 
the  lash.  —  June  28.  The  powder-house  on  Mount 
Vernon  Street  removed,  but  a  small  brick  house, 
belonging  to  the  estate,  was  retained  for  the  Town 
Watch. —  October  24.  A  jury  of  inquest  on  the 
body  of  a  man  found  floating  in  the  water,  reported 
that 46  He  came  to  his  death  by  misfortune .” 

1806.  July  4.  A  bear,  whose  body  had  been 
shaved,  and  who  had  been  taught  to  stand  on  his 


52 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


hindlegs,  and  perform  certain  antics,  was  exhibited 
on  the  Common  as  a  nondescript  from  the  East 
Indies.  The  cheat  being  discovered,  poor  bruin 
attempted  to  escape,  and  got  desperately  hustled 
about.  The  scene  ended  in  a  general  fight.  —  De¬ 
cember  3.  Thomas  Oliver  Selfridge,  indicted  for 
manslaughter,  in  shooting  Charles  Austin.  The 
men  were  political  partisans,  of  opposite  creeds, 
and  Selfridge  being  of  the  dominant  party,  was 
acquitted. 

1807.  March  10.  The  town  was  divided  by 
State  and  Court  streets  into  two  Police  districts, 
each  under  the  supervision  of  an  officer.  —  Several 
persons  are  fined  for  keeping  disorderly  houses.  — 
August  16.  Joshua  Ladd  fined  thirty  dollars  for 
cheating  the  weight  of  his  binding-poles  in  a  load 
of  hay.  —  October  17.  Eppes  Ellery  fined  five  dol¬ 
lars  for  refusing  to  pass  the  bucket  at  a  fire,  by 
order  of  a  Fire  ward. 

1808.  April  16.  A  soup-house  established  in 
Milk  Street,  “  where  the  poor  can  procure  soup 
from  twelve  to  one  o’clock  each  day.”  —  September 
3.  A  great  horserace  at  Lynnfield.  One  Boston 
editor  approved,  another  condemned.  They  got 
warm,  and  accused  each  other  of  patronizing  cock- 
fighting.  A  suit  for  libel,  and  a  fight  in  the  street, 
settled  the  question  between  them.  —  December  8. 
Joseph  Underwood  fined  forty  dollars  for  casting 
three  votes  at  the  election.  —  December  25.  The 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


53 


Overseers  of  the  Poor  gave  notice  that  they  had 
given  away  six  hundred  loads  of  wood,  “  and  can 
give  no  more  without  further  subscriptions .” 

1809.  May  17.  The  Board  of  Health  give 
notice  that  “  all  dirt-carts  must  have  tail-boards.” 

—  June  25.  Fish  pedlers  forbid  blowing  their 
horns  in  the  streets.  —  October  19.  Ezra  Brown 
fined  five  pounds  for  forestalling.  He  was  then 
complained  of  as  an  idler,  and  sent  to  the  Alms¬ 
house.  —  December  2.  The  funeral  of  William 
Cooper,  who  was  Town  Clerk  forty-nine  successive 
years,  was  solemnized  to-day.  —  December  30.  A 
masquerade  ball  advertised,  but  “  it  was  forbidden, 
as  detrimental  to  morals.” 

1810.  January  13.  Notice  given  that  66  James 
Wilson,  Town  Crier,  will  receive  all  lost  property 
at  his  house,  No.  23  Cornhill.  —  March  21.  The 
Town  chose  one  Inspector  Police,  two  Assistant 
Police  officers,  seventeen  Constables,  and  thirty 
Watchmen.  Watchhouses  in  Ship  Street,  at  the 
Market,  Mount  Vernon  Street,  and  corner  of  Elliot 
and  Washington  streets.  —  Boston  had  33,234  in¬ 
habitants,  9,557  ratable  polls,  and  cast  5,288  votes. 

—  July  4.  “  The  celebration  was  very  spirited. 

Next  day,  seven  hundred  persons,  without  distinc¬ 
tion  of  party,  were  regaled  at  Faneuil  Flail  on  five 
barrels  of  punch,  that  remained  of  the  stores  pro¬ 
vided  by  the  Town  for  the  celebration  the  day  pre¬ 
vious.  Query.  How  many  barrels  were  provided 

s* 


54 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


for  the  celebration  ?  —  August  3.  The  Town  voted 
to  open  a  new  burial-ground  on  the  Neck. 

1811.  March  1 1 .  Alexander  Townsend,  Thom¬ 
as  Welch,  James  Savage,  William  Minot,  and 
Lemuel  Shaw,  were  rival  candidates  for  Town  Ad¬ 
vocate. 

1812.  June  24.  The  news  of  the  declaration 
of  war  with  England  was  received  with  great  in¬ 
dignation  by  a  majority  of  Boston  people.  —  August 
31.  The  Town  appointed  one  hundred  special 
watchmen  to  patrol  the  town.  “  In  case  of  riot, 
they  are  to  toll  the  bells,  and  in  case  of  an  alarm, 
all  well-disposed  citizens  are  requested  to  place 

lights  in  all  their  front  windows,  and  all  military 

\ 

companies,  magistrates,  and  constables  will  hold 
themselves  in  readiness ;  and  all  boys  or  appren¬ 
tices  who  do  not  wish  to  be  considered  rioters,  will 
remain  in  doors.”  The  permanent  watch  was  also 
increased  to  forty-six,  consisting  of  three  divisions  ; 
the  North,  Centre,  and  South,  as  follows :  at  the 
North,  fourteen  men  ;  Centre,  eighteen  men  ;  South, 
fourteen  men,  and  two  constables  at  each  house. 
A  Captain  was  also  appointed,  whose  office  was  at 
the  centre  house,  and  who  had  general  supervision. 
One  constable  and  half  the  watch  being  on  duty 
alternately  every  other  night,  all  night .  “  Watch¬ 

men  are  not  to  talk  loud,  or  make  any  noise,  nor 
suffer  any  one  to  enter  a  watchhouse  without  a 
certificate  from  a  Selectman.”  —  Constable’s  pay, 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


55 


seventy-five  cents  per  night;  watchman’s,  fifty 
cents.  —  December  10.  Samuel  Tully,  for  piracy, 
hung  on  Nook’s  Hill  at  South  Boston.  John  Dal¬ 
ton,  an  accomplice,  was  reprieved  on  the  gallows. 

1813.  April  9.  Molly  Pitcher,  wdio  has  turned 
the  head  of  many  a  Boston  boy,  died,  aged  seventy- 
five.  She  was  said  to  be  grand-daughter  of  John 
Diamond  (a  fortune  teller  of  Marblehead),  and  the 
wife  of  Robert  Pitcher,  at  Lynn,  having  several 
children  herself.  Her  fame  as  a  fortune-teller  was 
known  throughout  the  world.  No  vessel  arrived 
on  the  coast,  but  some  of  the  hardy  crew  visited 
Molly.  Her  dwelling  stood  on  a  lonely  road  near 
High  Rock,  at  the  gate  of  which  were  to  be  seen 
the  bones  of  a  great  whale  that  the  ocean  had 
thrown  on  the  banks.  To  this  place  repaired  the 
weather-beaten  mariner,  the  respectable  merchant, 
and  the  timid  swain,  who  often  betrayed  the  secret 
of  their  expedition,  by  inquiring  for  the  bones  of 
the  great  whale.  Molly  had  great  tact  in  pretend¬ 
ing  to  discover  lost  property.  She  generally  saw 
it  in  the  bottom  of  a  teacup  ;  but  her  information 
was  generally  derived  from  the  inquirers  them¬ 
selves,  while  they  were  talking  with  her  domestic, 
Molly  being  in  the  next  room.  But  it  may  be  asked 
what  has  Molly  Pitcher  to  do  with  the  Boston 
Watch  and  Police  ;  let  the  frequenters  of  “  The  Old 
National,”  when  “  The  Fortune-Teller  of  Lynn”  was 
the  play,  answer  that  question. 


56 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


1814.  March  23.  An  Asylum  for  indigent  boys 
established. — April  10.  A  report  that  a  British 
fleet  is  off  the  coa?st,  and  Boston  made  great  prep¬ 
aration  for  defence.  —  April  13.  The  Selectmen 
offer  $  100  reward  for  arrest  of  grave-robbers  at 
South  Burying-Ground.  —  May  10.  A  public  din¬ 
ner  given  to  Commodore  Perry  for  whipping  the 
British  on  Lake  Erie.  —  June  14.  Western  Avenue 
Company  incorporated. — July  25.  A  Company 
called  the  “Sea  Fencibles,”  formed. — September 
10.  Several  thousand  troops  are  quartered  in  Bos¬ 
ton  for  the  defence  of  the  town  against  the  British. 

1815.  February  22.  A  grand  illumination  in 
the  evening,  in  celebration  of  the  Treaty  of  Peace 
with  Great  Britain.  —  September  23.  A  terrible 
storm  destroyed  many  trees  on  the  Common,  and 
did  much  damage  in  Town  and  harbor.  —  October 
22.  The  Town’s  people  practised  going  into  the 
country  on  Sunday  to  get  fresh  air.  Country  peo¬ 
ple  remonstrated.  A  stringent  Sunday  law  was 
enforced,  and  Boston  gentlemen  got  detained  out 
of  town  over  night.  —  The  Supreme  Court  at  Bos¬ 
ton,  decided,  “  A  county  Justice  cannot  issue 
warrants  for  violation  of  Sunday  laws,  against  an 
offender  living  in  another  county ;  neither  can  an 
officer  serve  such  a  warrant  on  Lord’s  day.”  This 
gave  Boston  people  a  breathing-hole ,  and  country 
people  much  annoyance. 

1816.  January  1.  Boston  Post-office  removed 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


57 


to  corner  Congress  and  Water  Streets.  —  December 
11.  An  effort  having  been  made  to  build  a  new 
workhouse,  it  was  said,  —  “As  respects  The  Hill , 
it  consists  principally  of  drunkards,  harlots,  spend¬ 
thrifts,  and  outcasts  from  the  country  ;  in  truth, 
Beelzebub  holds  a  court  there,  and  almost  every 
Town  in  the  Commonwealth  •  has  a  representative. 
These  are  great  nuisances,  but  every  large  town 
has  them,  whether  governed  by  Selectmen,  or 
Mayor  and  Aldermen,  in  spite  of  jails  and  work- 
houses,  and  probably  will  till  the  millennium.” 

1817.  January  20.  Daniel  D.  Britton  sent  to 
Jail,  for  stealing  hens.  “  He  is  a  brawny  chimney¬ 
sweep,  and  parades  the  streets  in  a  big  cap,  a  long 
stick,  and  a  train  of  boys  at  his  heels,  to  the  great 
annoyance  of  people.”  —  March  13.  Henry  Phillips 
hung  on  Boston  Neck,  for  the  murder  of  Gaspard 
Denegri,  near  Roebuck  Tavern,  in  January  last. 
66  After  the  cap  was  drawn  over  his  eyes,  he  sang  a 
song  of  three  verses,  dropped  the  handkerchief,  and 
was  launched  into  eternity.”  —  During  the  year, 
wonders  were  plenty.  An  egg,  with  some  mysteri¬ 
ous  writing,  was  on  exhibition,  and  attracted  great 
curiosity.  But  the  Sea  Serpent ,  seen  in  a  thousand 
different  places  and  shapes,  astonished  the  natives , 
and  cast  all  other  mysteries  in  the  shade.  —  Decern - 
her  26.  William  McDonald  sentenced  to  be  hung, 
for  killing  his  wife,  but  he  died  before  the  day  of 
execution  arrived. 


58 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


1818.  May  20.  A  heavy  rain  overflowed  the 
Frog  Pond,  and  when  the  water  fell,  a  great  num¬ 
ber  of  small  fish  were  left  on  dry  land.  Common 
people  were  astonished :  scientific  men  attempted 
an  explanation,  not  once  dreaming  the  real  cause. 
The  case  was  a  sequel  to  the  Sea  Serpent,  and 
wonderful  egg.  —  November  3.  The  Exchange 
Coffee  House  burned.  —  The  light  was  seen  at 
Amherst,  New  Hampshire,  and  Saco,  Maine.  The 
building  contained  210  rooms,  covered  12,753  feet 
of  land,  and  cost  $600,000. 

1819.  A  committee  of  the  Selectmen  made 

several  visits  to  the  watchhouses  in  the  night  time, 
and  reported  as  follows  :  “  January  5.  Visit  the 

several  watchhouses,  and  find  them  in  good  con¬ 
dition.” —  “  January  12.  Another  visit.  Find  too 
many  watchmen  doing  duty  inside.”  —  “  January 
20.  One  o’clock,  night.  South  Watch  doing  good 
duty,  but  the  two  constables  are  asleep.  At  North 
W atch,  constables  awake.  At  Centre  Watch,  found 
an  intoxicated  man  and  an  abandoned  female  in 
the  Lockup.”  —  February  3.  Another  visit  made 
by  the  Inspector  of  Police.  He  said,  “  At  one 
o’clock,  visited  South  Watch ;  constable  asleep. 
One  and  one-half  o’clock,  at  Centre  Watch  found 
constable  and  doorman  asleep.  Two  o’clock,  at 
North  Watch  found  constable  and  doorman  asleep, 
and  a  drunken  man  kicking  at  the  door  to  get  in.” 
The  Inspector  recommends  that  the  doorman  be  re - 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


59 


quired  to  wake  the  constable  when  necessary.  Constable 
Reed  arrested  several  persons  for  keeping  gambling 
houses.  One  was  fined  $150,  for  keeping  “  a  new 
French  game  called  Quino.”  —  February  18.  John 
Williams,  John  P.  Rog^  Niles  Peterson,  and  Francis 
Frederick,  pirates,  hung  on  Boston  Neck.  —  March 
21.  William  Johnson  sent  to  State  Prison  for  life, 
for  robbing  a  countryman  of  squirrels  on  the  Com¬ 
mon,  where  he  decoyed  him,  under  pretence  to  find 
a  purchaser.  —  May  31.  At  Town  Meeting,  the 
watch  and  their  friends  remained  at  the  polls  till 
near  the  close,  till  others  had  left,  and  then  passed 
a  vote  to  pay  watchmen  seventy-five  instead  of  fifty 
cents  per  night.  The  vote  was  rescinded  next 
Town  Meeting.  —  June  17.  Freeman  Backhouse, 
sent  to  State  Prison  three  years,  for  picking  the 
pocket  of  Flavel  Case,  a  watchman.  —  November 
13.  Ropewalks  burnt  in  Charles  Street. 

1820.  March  13.  The  North  watchhouse,  for 
many  years  in  Ship  Street,  was  removed  to  Fleet 
Street,  near  Moon  Street.  The  Centre  watch- 
house  was  in  the  east  basement  of  the  Town  House. 
The  South  was  at  the  place  long  occupied  on  Wash¬ 
ington,  near  Eliot  Street.  West  watchhouse, 
corner  Temple  and  Hancock  streets.  Number  of 
watchmen  55.  Constables  of  the  watch,  8.  Cap¬ 
tain,  1.  May  25.  Michael  Powers  hung  on  Bos¬ 
ton  Neck,  for  the  murder  of  Timothy  Kennedy,  in 


60 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


South  Russell  Street,  in  March  last. — Watchmen 
were  served  with  a  certificate  of  appointment. 

1821.  May  23.  A  new  Captain  of  the  Watch 
appointed,  and  a  long  list  of  instructions  given. 
44  Watchmen  are  not  to  walk  or  talk  together  on 
their  beats.  They  are  to  go  their  rounds,  and 
return  to  their  box,  and  there  wait  till  the  time 
arrives  to  go  round  again.  They  are  not  to  cry  the 
time  of  night  in  a  vociferous  voice,”  &c.  &c.  — 
July  2.  Milldam  bridge  opened  for  travel. — 
September  19.  A  man  named  Pearl,  convicted  of 
adultery  with  a  young  woman  who  had  been  work¬ 
ing  with  him  as  a  carpenter’s  apprentice,  in  male 
attire,  for  three  years.  —  December  20.  Michael 
Martin  hung  at  Leclimere  Point,  for  robbing  Major 
John  Bray,  in  Medford,  in  October  last.  Plis 
accomplice,  the  notorious  Captain  Thunderbolt, 
lived  incog,  many  years  after  in  Brattleboro’,  Ver¬ 
mont,  and  died  there  in  1835.  —  December  23.  Sev¬ 
eral  burglaries  having  been  committed,  some  per¬ 
sons  were  very  severe  on  the  Watch,  and  said, 
44  They  care  for  nothing  but  their  pay,  and  are  sure 
to  get  that ;  give  us  a  private  watch.”  Others  said, 
44  A  private  watch,  like  the  one  in  1816,  as  soon 
as  the  stores  are  closed,  would  be  found  at  the 
Exchange,  sipping  coffee.  The  only  safe  way  is 
for  merchants  to  watch  themselves.”  Others  Sodd, 
44  Who  will  work  faithfully  all  night  for  the  bar* 
stipend  of  fifty  cents.” 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


61 


1822.  February  22.  The  Legislature  passed  an 
Act  establishing  “  The  City  of  Boston,”  subject  to 
the  acceptance  or  the  refusal  of  the  citizens. — 
March  4.  At  a  meeting  of  the  legal  voters  of  the 
Town  of  Boston,  held  at  Faneuil  Hall,  to  adopt  or 
reject  the  City  Charter  granted  by  the  Legislature, 
the  vote  was  as  follows  :  Yeas,  2,797  ;  nays,  1,881 ; 
and  the  Town  of  Boston  to  become  a  City  the  first 
day  of  May  next.  —  March  7.  Gilbert  Close  and 
Samuel  Clisby  hung  on  the  Neck  lands,  near  the 
burying-grounds,  for  robbing  Ezra  Haynes  in  Cam¬ 
bridge  Street,  on  the  tenth  of  August  last.  —  April 
25.  Samuel  Green  hung  on  the  Neck  lands  for 
killing  Billy  Williams  in  State  Prison,  in  November 
last.  —  May  1.  Boston  City  Government  inaugurat¬ 
ed,  consisting  of  Hon.  John  Phillips,  Mayor,  eight 
Aldermen,  and  forty-eight  Councilmen.  Inaugura¬ 
tion  at  Faneuil  Hall,  and  they  take  up  their  offices 
at  the  old  Court  House,  in  Court  Square,  where 
subordinate  officers  are  chosen.  —  May  24.  Owing 
to  the  disorderly  state  of  the  Hill  and  Ann  Street, 
constables  were  detailed  there  on  Sundays.  —  June 
20.  The  new  Police  Court  held  its  first  session. 
Honorables  Benjamin  Whitman,  Henry  Orne,  and 
William  Simmons,  Judges  ;  Thomas  Power,  Clerk  ; 
William  Knapp,  Assistant.  They  held  criminal 
sessions  each  "day,  and  civil  sessions  twice  each 
week.  —  August  1.  Several  cases  of  yellow  fever 

in  Boston.  —  September  16.  Howard  Trask,  a  no- 

6 


62 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


torious  murderer,  who  had  escaped  hanging  on  the 
plea  of  insanity,  attempted  to  kill  two  prisoners 
confined  with  him  in  Boston  Jail,  after  which  he 
cut  up  several  mysterious  antics  and  escaped.  —  In 
consequence  of  the  bad  condition  of  the  Jail  in 
Court  Square,  prisoners  were  taken  to  Lechmere 
Point.  —  An  effort  was  made  to  introduce  the  tread¬ 
mill,  to  punish  criminals. 

1823.  February  13.  New  buildings  completed, 
and  an  order  passed,  “  That  the  new  Court  House 
in  Leverett  Street,  be  called  City  Court  House.” 
The  buildings  were  to  be  occupied  as  a  Jail,  House 
of  Correction,  and  Police  Court  House.  —  May  1. 
Josiah  Quincy,  Mayor.  —  May  3.  The  Mayor  gave 
notice  “  That  he  would  attend  at  his  office,”  at  the 
County  Court  House,  every  day  (Sundays  excepted), 
between  nine  and  ten  o’clock  a.  m.,  to  receive 
communications  of  individual  or  public  interest.”  — 
May  13.  “  All  cows  going  at  large,  shall  wear  a 

Tally  on  their  neck,  with  owner’s  name,  and  number 
of  the  license.”  “  No  citizen  shall  pasture  more 
than  one  cow  on  the  Common.”  The  office  of 
Superintendent  of  Police  abolished,  and  Benjamin 
Pollard  appointed  City  Marshal,  James  Morgan, 
Captain  of  the  Watch.  The  North  Watch  was 
removed  to  Hancock  Schoolhouse,  in  Middle  Street. 
The  Centre  Watch  was  at  the  Town  House,  the 
West  at  Derne  Street,  and  the  South  at  the  Old 
House  on  Washington  Street.  There  appeared  to 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


63 


be  little  alteration  in  watch  regulations,  except  that 
they  were  increased  to  about  sixty.  —  June  19.  An 
order  passed  to  sell  the  old  Jail  in  Court  Street, 
and  lease  the  house  of  the  Jailer.  —  “Shaking, 
down,”  by  the  girls,  becomes  frequent  on  The  Hill. 
Mayor  Quincy  inaugurated  stringent  measures 
there. 

1824.  February  14.  The  great  Canal  Lottery  in 
full  blast  in  State  Street.  John  Beck  fined  fifty 
dollars  for  keeping  a  faro  bank.  —  May  1.  Josiah 
Quincy,  Mayor.  —  Watch  appropriation,  $8,800. 
June  23.  Type  foundry  in  Salem  Street  burnt.  — 
July  1.  An  Ordinance  passed  to  renumber  the 
streets,  placing  the  even  numbers  on  one  side,  and 
the  odd  on  the  other.  Middle  and  North  to  be 
called  Hanover  Street ;  and  the  main  street  from 
“  The  Market  to  Roxbury  line,  shall  be  called 
Washington  Street.” — July  21.  The  City  Clerk 
reported,  “  Fees  received  for  cow  and  dog  license, 
$3,247,  39.”  —  August  24.  General  Lafayette  vis¬ 
ited  Boston.  —  September  15.  Dr.  Harrington 
fined  $150,  for  letting  rooms  to  Susan  Bryant  for 
unlawful  purposes.  —  October  14.  An  officer  de¬ 
tailed  to  patrol  Ann  Street  by  day.  —  November  20. 
—  The  North  wood-stand  to  be  between  Cross  and 
Merrimac  streets  and  Green  Dragon  Tavern ; 
The  South,  between  Granary  Burying-ground  and 
Samuel  Phillips’s  House.  South  Hay  Scales  in 
Charles  Street.  New  Lockup  about  being  built  at 


64 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


the  South  watchhouse.  The  Washington  Gardens , 
a  place  of  great  attraction  on  Tremont  Street, 
between  West  Street  and  Temple  Place,  were 
opened. 

1825.  March  26.  The  city  voted  to  accept  the 
act  changing  the  time  of  the  municipal  election  to 
the  second  Monday  in  December.  —  “  Watchmen 
found  asleep,  to  be  discharged.”  —  April  6.  The 
old  Friends  meeting-house,  Congress  Street,  sold. 
—  April  27.  Corner-stone  of  new  Market  House 
laid.  —  Thomas  Melville,  who  had  been  Fireward 
forty-six  years,  resigned.  —  May  2.  Josiah  Quincy, 
Mayor.  —  June  4.  The  City  Marshal  gave  notice 
that  he  should  execute  the  laws.  —  June  17.  Cor¬ 
ner-stone  of  Bunker  Hill  Monument  laid.  —  July 
11.  An  order  adopted  to  survey  head  waters  near 
Boston,  to  introduce  water.  —  Churches  allowed  to 
put  chains  across  streets  Sundays  to  prevent  dis¬ 
turbance. —  Watchhouse  removed  from  Washing¬ 
ton  to  Eliot  Street.  —  July  22.  The  Beehive  de¬ 
stroyed  in  Prince  Street,  by  a  mob.  —  July  24.  A 
riot  attempted  at  Tin  Pot,  Ann  Street,  which  was 
suppressed.  —  October  10.  Sign-boards  ordered  to 
be  placed  at  corners  of  streets.  —  October  24. 
Tremont  Street  widened,  taking  Gardiner  Greene’s 
land. — December  12.  Watchman  Jonathan  Hough¬ 
ton  killed  in  State  Street,  by  a  ruffian  named  John 
Holland. — Boston  contained  58,2ol  inhabitants. 
White  males,  27,911;  white  females,  29,453. 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


65 


Colored  males,  974;  colored  females,  943.  —  De¬ 
cember  21.  A  fearful  riot  occurred  at  Boston  The- 
tre,  Federal  Street.  Edmund  Kean,  who  had  pre¬ 
viously  given  offence,  was  to  play.  A  large  num¬ 
ber  of  men  and  boys,  but  no  women,  were  present. 
At  Kean’s  appearance  on  the  stage,  the  riot  com¬ 
menced.  Kean  was  driven  out,  the  house  and  fur¬ 
niture  nearly  destroyed,  and  many  persons  badly 
injured.  5,000  people,  more  or  less,  connected 
with  the  riot. 

1826.  January  1.  City  Government  inaugur¬ 
ated  ;  Josiah  Quincy,  Mayor.  —  January  9.  The¬ 
atres  charged  $1,000  for  license.  —  January  29. 
James  Morgan,  Captain  of  Watch,  died,  and  Flavel 
Case  was  soon  after  appointed.  —  February  6. 
House  of  Juvenile  Offenders  established  at  South 
Boston.  —  March  3.  John  Holland,  or  Holloran, 
hung  for  the  murder  of  Watchman  Houghton. — 
War  between  the  Government  and  Fire  Depart¬ 
ment  ;  the  Fire  Department  got  the  worst  of  it.  — 
May  6.  The  Mayor  of  Boston  fined  for  fast  rid¬ 
ing.  —  A  stone  curb  ordered  to  be  built  about  the 
Frog  Pond. — Park  Street  Mall  laid  out. —  June  17. 
Jerome  V.  C.  Smith  chosen  resident  physician  at 

Hospital  Island.  — July  1.  Bodies  being  removed 

\ 

from  Quaker  Burying-ground  to  Lynn.  —  July  4. 
Celebrated  with  great  spirit.  A  liberty  pole 
erected  corner  Essex  and  Washington  Street. — 
Presidents  Thomas  Jefferson  and  John  Adams  both 


6* 


65 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


died  this  day.  —  July  14.  A  riot  on  Negro  Hill ; 
several  houses  pulled  down.  —  August  26.  The 
new  market  completed  and  opened,  and  ordered  to 
be  called  “  Faneuil  Hall  Market.”  —  October  7, 
The  first  railroad  in  America,  completed  at  Quin¬ 
cy.  —  October  13.  John  Tileston  died  at  his  resi¬ 
dence,  No.  65  Prince  Street,  aged  eighty-nine. 
Had  been  a  Boston  schoolmaster  seventy  years.  — 
October  16.  Gaspipe  being  laid  in  the  streets  in 
Boston.  —  November  27.  Boston  Marine  Pailway 
completed.  —  December  18.  Charles  Marchant  and 
Charles  Colson,  pirates,  sentenced  to  be  hung. 
When  sentenced,  Marchant  replied,  “What!  is 
that  what  you  brought  me  here  for,  to  tell  me  I 
must  die  ?  No  thanks  to  you,  sir  ;  I  am  ready  to 
die  to-morrow.”  He  killed  himself  the  day  before 
execution  arrived. 

1827.  Josiah-  Quincy,  Mayor.  —  February  1. 
Colson,  the  pirate,  and  accomplice  of  Marchant, 
hung  in  the  jail-yard,  Leverett  Street.  —  February 
7.  Edwin  Forrest  appeared  at  Boston  Theatre. — 
February  19.  The  city  exchanged  land  with  Asa 
Richardson,  front  of  City  Hall.  —  March  15.  A 
temperance  meeting  held  at  Julien  Hall,  Milk 
Street.  —  April  28.  Constables  ordered  to  patrol 
the  Common  by  day.  —  Joshua  Yose  pastured  cows 
on  the  Neck  for  eight  dollars  the  season.  May 
18.  No  more  liquor  to  be  sold  on  the  Common 
public  days. —  June  16.  A  new  monument  erect- 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


67 


ed  over  the  graves  of  the  father  and  mother  of 
Franklin,  in  Granary  Burying-grounds.  —  August 
11.  Palm-leaf  hats  first  worn  in  Boston.  — Septem¬ 
ber  24.  Tremont  Theatre  first  opened.  —  October 
11.  Old  Gunhouse  removed  from  Copp’s  Hill  to 
Cooper  Street.  —  The  body  of  a  drowned  woman 
floated  in  the  creek,  from  Creek  Square,  across 
Hanover  Street.  —  October  31.  The  Statue  of 
Washington  placed  in  the  State  House. — Novem¬ 
ber  24.  Madam  Celeste  danced  at  Tremont  The¬ 
atre. —  December  15.  No  child  to  be  admitted  at 
school  unless  vaccinated.  —  December  17.  Two 
watchmen'  detailed  for  duty  at  South  Boston.  — 
The  Boston  Directory  this  year  contained  11,164 
names.  It  had  the  name  of  a  baker,  a  blacksmith, 
a  cordwainer,  a  ship  carpenter,  a  tailor,  a  house 
carpenter,  a  saddler,  a  druggist,  a  wine  dealer,  an 
auctioneer,  two  merchants,  and  two  hair-dressers, 
that  were  in  the  first  Boston  Directory  in  1789. 
One  merchant  kept  the  same  store,  and  one  hair¬ 
dresser  the  same  shop  forty-six  years.  —  During 
the  year,  921  persons  have  been  committed  to  Bos¬ 
ton  Jail  for  debt. 

1828.  Josiah  Quincy,  Mayor.  —  January  17. 
Ancient  wooden  house  on  the  west  side  of  Tremont 
Street,  removed,  a  part  of  which  was  said  to  have 
been  built  by  Sir  Henry  Vane,  in  1635,  and  the 
other  by  Be v.  John  Cotton,  in  1636. — February 
26.  The  Ursuline  Convent  at  Mount  Benedict, 


68 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


Charlestown,  completed.  —  April  30.  One  hundred 
persons  more  or  less  injured  by  the  falling  of  a 
floor,  while  witnessing  the  ceremonies  of  laying  the 
corner-stone  of  the  Methodist  Church,  North 
Bennet  Street.  —  June  23.  Persons  contracted  to 
remove  night  soil.  —  July  4.  The  corner-stone  of 
City  Hotel  (Tremont  House)  laid.  Mr.  J.  B.  Booth 
appeared  at  Tremont  Theatre.  —  September  15. 
Marginal  (Commercial)  Street  from  Market  to  Sar¬ 
gent’s  Wharf  opened.  —  September  23.  Federal 
/ 

Street  Theatre  (renamed  the  Old  Drury).  —  Sep- 
tember  26.  Boston  Millpond  filled  up,  and  the 
Company  surrendered  their  right  to  the  city.  — 
Union  Street  opened  from  Hanover  to  Merrimac 
streets.  —  November  4.  The  Centre  Watch  petition 
for  beds,  hut  don’t  get  them. — The  Grand  Jury 
complained  of  being  annoyed  by  the  noise  at  their 
quarters  in  Leverett  Street,  by  prisoners  hammer¬ 
ing  stone.  —  December  25.  Warren  Bridge  opened 
for  travel. 

1829.  Harrison  Gray  Otis,  Mayor. —  January  1. 
A  Gas  Street-lamp  placed  in  Dock  Square,  as  an 
experiment.  —  January  19.  The  pay  of  the  Watch 
increased  to  sixty  cents  per  night.  —  April  15. 
Clinton  Street  opened. — April  22.  Common  Street, 
from  Court,  by  the  Common,  to  Washington,  to  be 
called  Tremont  Street.  That  part  of  Common  St. 
between  Southac  Court  (Howard),  and  Court,  to 
be  called  Pemberton  Hill. 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


69 


1829.  July  4.  Celebrated  with  little  spirit. 
It  was  said,  “  on  the  Common  no  liquor,  no  booths, 
and  no  people.  At  the  Washington  Gardens,  af¬ 
ternoon,  Orator  Emmons  held  forth  in  flights  of 
passing  eloquence  and  rhyme,  which,  with  a  nonde¬ 
script  fish,  were  all  to  be  heard  and  seen  for 
fourpence.”  In  the  evening,  a  man  tried  to  whip  Big 
Dick,  and  got  the  worst  of  it.  Big  Dick  (Richard 
Cephas)  was  a  big  darkey  and  bully  of  the  Hill. 
He  was  a  dancing-master  by  profession,  and  a  peace¬ 
maker  by  practice.  He  is  remembered  by  some 
old  men  as  standing  head  and  shoulders  above  his 
fellows,  weight  300  pounds,  with  short  open  blouse, 
red  jacket,  little  round-top  hat,  and  was  feared 
by  all.  He  long  since  44  shuffled  off  this  mortal 
coil,”  but  his  stately  figure  may  still  be  seen  not  a 
mile  from  his  former  residence.  —  August  24.  Sia¬ 
mese  Twins  in  Boston. —  October  19.  A  new  wall 
to  be  built  on  Tremont  Street,  next  Chapel  burying- 
ground.  —  Cigar-smokers  in  streets,  notified  that 
they  will  be  fined.  —  Market  Street  to  be  called 
Cornhill.  —  November  28.  J.  B.  Booth  comes  near 
killing  another  actor  in  sword  exercise  at  the  Tre¬ 
mont,  pretends  to  be  crazy  and  leaves  the  city.  — 
December  30.  A  great  Anti-Masonic  meeting  at 
Faneuil  Hall,  resolved  to  put  down  the  order. 

1830.  Harrison  Gray  Otis,  Mayor.  —  February 
1.  Beecher’s  church  in  Hanover,  opposite  Port¬ 
land  Street,  burnt.  —  February  15.  The  Franklin 


70 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


Schoolhouse  having  been  sold,  was  repurchased, 
and  the  South  Watch  soon  removed  thereto.  The 
watch  detailed  as  follows :  North  Watch,  house  in 
Hancock  Schoolhouse,  2  constables,  25  men;  Cen¬ 
tre  Watch,  in  Kilby  Street,  2  constables,  25  men: 
South  Watch,  Franklin  Schoolhouse,  Common 
Street,  2  constables,  22  men;  West  Watch,  Derne 
Street,  2  constables,  24  men ;  2  men  at  South  Bos¬ 
ton.  Flavel  Case,  Captain.  —  March  15.  Cows 
excluded  from  the  Common. — April  6.  Mr.  J oseph 
White,  aged  eighty-two  years,  murdered  at  Salem. 

—  May  1.  City  Marshal’s  salary,  $  1,000  ;  Captain 
of  Watch,  $800  ;  Watch  Appropriation,  $  11,400. 

—  Boston  had  61,381  inhabitants,  of  which  1,915 
were  colored.  —  September  17,  A  committee  long 
having  the  matter  under  consideration,  decided  this 
day  to  be  the  anniversary  of  the  Settlement  of  Bos¬ 
ton,  and  the  day  was  celebrated  with  great  spirit,  as 
the  second  centennial  anniversary  of  the  settlement 
of  the  Town.  —  The  old  Town  House  having  been 
prepared,  the  City  Government  took  possession,  to 
occupy  it  as  City  Hall,  with  appropriate  ceremo¬ 
nies.  —  September  29.  John  F.  Knapp  hung  at 
Salem,  for  the  murder  of  Mr.  White. —  October  14. 
Corner-stone  of  Masonic  Temple,  Tremont  Street, 
laid.  —  November  8.  Another  peace  officer  placed 
on  Ann  Street.  —  North  Island  wharf,  the  last  re¬ 
mains  of  what  was  called  44  the  old  wharf,”  was  re¬ 
moved  this  year. 


BOSTON  "WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


71 


1831.  Harrison  Gray  Otis,  Mayor.  —  March  21. 
John  Harrington  astonishing  Bostonians  with  yen 
triloquism,  at  Concert  Hall.  —  May  5.  Maynard’s 
bakehouse  in  Broad  Street,  burnt.  A  man,  wife,  and 
three  children,  perish  in  the  flames.  —  June  13. 
Chambers  over  the  Market  to  be  called  Quincy  Hall. 
The  Municipal  Court  removed  from  Leverett 
Street,  to  County  Court  House,  Court  Square.  — 
July  1.  Joseph  Gadett,  and  Thomas  Colinett, 
hung  in  rear  of  Leverett  Street  jail,  for  piracy.  — 
No.  60  State  Street,  corner  Flag  Alley,  once 
the  British  Custom  House,  afterwards,  United 
States  Custom  House,  sold  at  auction  for  ten  dol¬ 
lars  per  foot.  —  July  11..  Oak,  Ash,  Pine,  and  ad¬ 
jacent  streets,  being  graded. — August  3.  John 
Gray  Rogers  appointed  Judge  of  Police  Court; 
Judge  Orne  resigned. — August  10.  First  sale  of 
lots  at  Mount  Auburn.  —  August  23.  Funeral 
ceremonies  on  the  death  of  President  Monroe  ; 
died  July  4.  —  September  10.  The  notorious 
swindler  Mina,  arrested  by  officer  Pierce,  for  High 
Constable  Hayes,  of  New  York.  —  November  16. 
Mr.  Anderson  attempted  to  sing  at  Tremont  The 
atre,  but  was  driven  from  the  stage,  for  alleged 
abuse  of  the  Yankees.  — December  28.  Calvin  Ed- 
son,  the  living  skeleton,  on  exhibition  in  Boston. 

1832.  Charles  Wells,  Mayor.  —  February  27. 
Centre  Watch  removed  from  Kilby  Street,  to  base- 
ment  in  Joy’s  Buildings.  —  May  1.  Among  the 


72 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


✓ 

appointments  were  Hezekiah  Earl,  Deputy  Mar¬ 
shal  ;  Zephaniah  Sampson,  Superintendent  Streets ; 
Thomas  C.  Amory,  Chief  Engineer,  Fire  Depart¬ 
ment  ;  Samuel  D.  Parker,  County  Attorney.  —  June 
11.  The  watch  to  be  set  at  ten  o’clock  the  year 
round.  —  July  3.  William  Pelby  opened  the  War¬ 
ren  Theatre. — July  20.  The  Asiatic  cholera  ap¬ 
peared  in  Boston.  $  50,000  appropriated,  and 
every  preparation  made  to  stay  its  progress.  The 
contagion  disappeared  in  a  few  weeks.  —  August  9. 
A  constable  to  patrol  South  Boston  on  Sunday.  — 
August  13.  A  Steamboat  first  placed  on  Chelsea 
Ferry. —  September  12.  Mrs.  Vincent  first  appeared 
at  Tremont  Theatre.  —  September  24.  Boston  lying- 
in  hospital  established,  at  718  Washington  street. — 
October  1.  Great  complaint  against  the  gas  works 
on  Copp’s  Hill.  —  October  16.  Steamboat  put  on 
Noddle’s  Island  Ferry.  —  December  21.  Great  ex¬ 
citement  in  Boston,  in  consequence  of  the  alleged 
murder  of  Sarah  Maria  Cornell,  by  Rev.  E.  K. 
Avery,  a  Methodist  preacher,  at  Tiverton,  R.  I.  — 
December  31.  Eleven  o’clock  at  night,  Bromfield 
Street  watch-meeting  broken  up  by  rioters. 

1833.  Charles  Wells,  Mayor.  —  February  17. 
John  B.  Carter  and  Mary  A.  Bradley,  a  worthy 
young  couple,  committed  suicide  by  hanging  them¬ 
selves  together  face  to  face,  in  her  father’s  store.  — 
March  26.  Elisha  Towers  and  other  temperance 
men  petitioned  to  have  the  eleven  o’clock  bell  dis¬ 
continued,  but  Boston  would  have  its  eleven 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


73 


o’clock.  —  April  8.  Jim  Crow  Rice  jumping  at 
Tremont  Theatre.  —  The  city  purchased  Brown’s 
Wharf.  —  May  1 .  F irst  Boston  omnibus  run  between 
Roxbury  and  Chelsea  Ferry.  —  May  6.  Old  Court 
House,  Court  Street,  removed.  It  stood  sixty 
years.  —  June  3.  A  fight  between  constables  and 
gamblers  on  the  Common.  —  June  17.  House  of 
Correction,  South  Boston,  opened.  —  June  21.  An¬ 
drew  Jackson  visited  Boston.  —  June  28.  New 
Watch  arrangement ;  the  men  to  go  out,  one  divi¬ 
sion  one  half  the  night,  the  other  division  the  other 
half,  commencing  at  six  o’clock  winter,  and  seven 
o’clock  summer,  remaining  out  till  sunrise.  The  force 
increased  eighteen  men.  Constable’s  pay  one  dollar. 
Watchmen  seventy-five  cents.  —  September  28.  Cor¬ 
ner-stone  of  New  Court  House,  Court  Street,  laid. 

% 

—  November  11.  Tremont  Street  to  Roxbury  line, 
also  Dedham,  and  several  other  streets  west  of 
Washington  nearly  completed. 

1834.  Theodore  Lyman,  Jr.,  Mayor.  — January 
24.  Judge  Whitman,  of  the  Police  Court  resigned. 

—  February  4.  Constables  detailed  to  attend  fires. 
^  * 

—  February  17.  The  name  of  Lynn  Street  discon¬ 
tinued,  and  Commercial  to  extend  from  State  to 
Charlestown  Bridge.  —  April  8,  The*  first  cargo  of 
ice  exported  from  Boston  by  Mr.  Rogers.  —  May 
4.  Colonel  David  Crockett  visited  Boston.  —  July 
3.  During  a  terrible  storm,  the  figure-head  of  the 
Frigate  Constitution  (the  likeness  of  General  Jack- 

7 


74 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


son),  lying  near  Charlestown,  was  cut  off  and  car¬ 
ried  away.  —  July  4.  The  christening  of  the  Whig 
party.  2,000  persons  sit  down  to  a  feast  under  a  tent 
on  the  Common.  —  August  11.  Monday  evening, 
the  Ursuline  Convent  at  Mount  Benedict,  Charles¬ 
town,  burnt.  —  August  19.  Theatres  agreeing  to 
sell  no  liquor  were  licensed  for  five  dollars  each.  — 
September  19.  Hair  beds  furnished  for  the  watch. 

—  September  22.  Blackstone  Street  completed  and 
named.  —  November  17.  Dover  Street  completed. 

—  December  2.  Henry  Joseph,  hung  in  Leverett 
Street  Jail  yard  for  piracy.  —  December  4.  The 
city  indicted  for  a  nuisance  at  South  Boston.  — 
There  were  seventy-one  gas  street-lamps  in  the 

citv.  —  Ann  Street  widened  so  as  to  connect  Mer- 

% 

chants  Bow  with  Blackstone  Street. 

1835.  Theodore  Lyman,  Jr.,  Mayor.  —  January 
5.  Men  go  from  Central  Wharf  to  the  Castle  on 
skates.  —  April  18.  Old  Mansion  taken  down, 
corner  Salem  and  Charter  Streets.  —  May  8.  Pem¬ 
berton  Hill  being  removed,  to  build  Lowell  Street. 
The  Gingko  tree  removed  to  the  Common,  near  Joy 
Street.  —  May  27.  Cars  put  on  Lowell  Railroad.  — 
June  9.  Pedro  Gilbert,  Manuel  Costello,  Monelle 
Bogga,  Jose  Bassello  DeCosta,  and  Angelo  Garcia, 
five  Spanish  pirates,  hung  in  rear  of  Leverett  Street 
Jail.  —  June  30.  Special  constables  appointed  for 
July  Fourth.  —  August  13.  Mr.  George  Robert 
Twelves  Heaves,  ninety-six  years  old,  said  to  be 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


75 


the  last  surviving  member  of  “  The  Boston  Tea 
Party,”  visited  Boston  from  his  residence  in  New 
York.  —  September  5.  Joyce  Heth,  pretending  to 
be  one  hundred  and  sixty-one  years  old,  and  General 
Washington’s  nurse,  was  on  exhibition  at  Concert 
Hall.  —  September  12.  Ruiz,  the  pirate,  hung  in 
rear  of  the  J ail.  —  October  7.  Sixty-four  building- 
lots  sold  in  Pemberton  Square.  —  October  22. 
George  Thompson  mobbed  at  the  Liberator  Office, 
Washington  Street.  —  October  23.  A  circus  opened 
at  the  Lion  Tavern. — December  31.  Charles 
Harris,  Esq.,  submitted  a  plan  for  supplying  Boston 
with  soft  water,  by  an  Artesian  well  on  Fort  Hill, 
which  he  calculated  would  yield  twelve  million 
gallons  of  pure  water  per  day.  — Watch  appropria¬ 
tion,  $27,210.  Special  Constable  appropriation, 
$3,630. 

1836.  Samuel  Turell  Armstrong,  Mayor.  — 
March  16.  Simeon  L.  Crockett  and  Stephen 
Russell,  for  setting  fire  to  Mr.  Hammond’s 
house  in  South  Street  Place,  were  hung  in 
the  jail  yard.  —  April  1.  "  Ordered ,  That 

hereafter  the  church  bells  be  rung  at  twelve, 
instead  of  eleven  o’clock.”  —  April  13.  "Tiie 
Boston"  Stone,”  was  set  in  a  building  in  pro¬ 
gress  of  erection,  corner  of  Marshall  and  Creek 
Lanes.  It  was  used  for  grinding  paint  by  an  early 
settler  in  Boston,  whose  arms  are  to  be  seen  in  the 
front  walls  of  a  building  on  Marshall  Street,  at  the 
present  day.  The  stone  was  said  to  have  laid  use- 


76 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


less  in  the  yard  many  years,  but  was  afterwards 
placed  at  the  corner  of  the  streets,  to  keep  truck 
wheels  from  injuring  the  building,  which  was  at 
that  time  occupied  by  Mr.  Howe.  About  the  year 
1737,  the  suggestion  of  a  Scotchman,  who  lived 
near,  induced  Joe  Whiting,  whose  father  then  kept 
the  shop,  to  paint  the  name  of  “  Boston  Stone, 
Marshall  Lane,”  on  the  old  paint  mill,  in  imitation 
of  “  The  London  Stone,”  in  London,  that  it  might 
be  a  landmark  and  directory,  which  character  it 
did  eventually  acquire.  The  pestle  or  ball  was  since 
found,  and  “  The  Boston  Stone  ”  has  now  “  become 
the  head  of  the  corner.”  —  June  16.  Pond  Street 
to  be  called  Endicott  Street.  —  July  13.  Church 
bells  to  be  rung  at  one  o’clock  instead  of  twelve.  — 
July  18.  Mount  Washington  House,  South  Boston, 
opened.  —  August  22.  The  name  of  Pelby’s  Theatre 
altered  from  Warren  to  National.  —  September  22. 
William  H.  Snelling  published  a  paper  called  the 
Balance ,  which  he  said,  “Is  to  be  the  author  of 
truth,  a  scourge  to  blacklegs,  and  a  terror  to  un¬ 
righteous  judges.”  —  December  16.  The  iron  fence 
around  the  Common  completed;  length  5,930  ;  cost 
$80,000.  $17,000  contributed  by  individuals. — 

December  20.  The  new  Court  House  in  Court 
Street,  completed.  —  Benjamin  Pollard,  who  had 
been  City  Marshal  fourteen  years,  died,  and  Daniel 
Parkman  was  appointed  in  his  stead. 

1837.  Samuel  Atkins  Eliot,  Mayor.  —  February 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


77 


8.  The  foundation  of  the  United  States  Hotel 
laid.  —  March  3.  Graham  lectures  at  Amory 
Hall.  —  May  11.  Boston  Banks  suspend  specie 
payment.  —  Superintendent  Common  Sewers  chos¬ 
en.  (A  new  office.)  —  Ezra  Weston  appointed  City 
Marshal. — June  11.  Sunday  afternoon-  “The 
Broad  Street  riot  occurred  between  Irishmen  and 
fire  companies,  in  which  it  was  said  15,000  people 
were  engaged.  The  riot  was  finally  suppressed  by 
the  military.  —  June  14.  The  National  Lancers 
made  their  first  public  parade.  —  June  30.  A  flag¬ 
staff  erected  on  the  Common,  near  “  The  Old  Elm.” 

—  July  5.  The  edgestones  about  the  Frog  Pond 
to  be  removed.  —  August  21.  A  watch  of  four 
men  detailed  for  East  Boston.  —  September  12.  At 
the  general  military  review  on  the  Common,  when 
the  Montgomery  Guards  appeared,  five  companies 
left  the  line,  and  the  review  was  suspended.  —  Oc¬ 
tober  20.  Lands  granted  to  Horace  Gray  for  “  the 
Public  Garden.”  —  Ten  deaths  by  cholera,  and 
eleven  by  delirium  tremens,  during  the  year. 

1838.  Samuel  Atkins  Eliot,  Mayor. —  February 
3.  (Saturday  night.)  The  City  Marshal  made  a 
descent  on  gamblers  in  Milk  Street,  arresting  twelve 
men.  —  February  19.  Pemberton  Square  named. 

—  May  21.  The  Legislature  having  passed  a  law 
giving  the  Mayor  and  Aldermen  of  Boston  power 
to  appoint  “  Police  officers  with  any  or  all  of  the 
powers  of  Constables,  except  the  power  of  execute 

7* 


78 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


ing  a  civil  process.”  The  Board  this  day  organized 
a  Police  force  for  day  duty,  to  be  under  the  direc¬ 
tion  of  the  City  Marshal,  and  six  officers  were 
appointed,  drawing  pay  when  on  actual  du¬ 
ty,  the  new  department  having  no  connection 
with  the  Watch.  There  were  four  Watch- 
houses  in  the  City  proper.  North  Watch,  Han¬ 
cock  Schoolhouse,  2  constables,  23  men;  East 
Watch,  Joy’s  Building,  2  constables,  28  men; 
South  Watch,  Common  Street,  2  constables,  22 
men ;  West  Watch,  Derne  Street,  2  constables,  28 
men.  The  South  and  East  Boston  Watch  were 
combined,  having  2  constables,  and  9  men,  with 
temporary  accommodations  at  each  place.  Watch 
appropriation,  $30,000.  Police  appropriation,  $3,- 
637.  —  June  18.  Abner  Kneeland  sent  to  jail 
two  months  for  blasphemy.  —  July  24.  Great 
Webster  dinner  at  Faneuil  Hall.  Jim  Wilson,  of 
New  Hampshire,  a  guest.  —  A  new  division  of 
wards.  —  July  31.  The  iron  fence  about  Wash¬ 
ington  Square,  completed.  —  Fanny  Ellsler  dancing 
at  the  Tremont  Theatre.  —  August  27.  Eastern 
Railroad  opened  for  travel. —  September  11.  “  The 
striped  Pig”  on  exhibition  at  Dedham  muster 
(and  elsewhere).  —  The  police  force  increased  to 
thirteen  during  the  year. 

1839.  Samuel  Atkins  Eliot,  Mayor.  —  Febru¬ 
ary  11.  A  committee  reported  one  hundred  and 
eighty  gas  street-lamps  in  the  city.  —  February 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


71 


15.  Hamden’s  Express  commences  carrying  let¬ 
ters  to  New  York.  —  March  27.  High  Sheriff 
Sumner  (in  office  many  years),  resigned. —  June  4. 
City  purchased  Richardson’s  estate  fronting  on 
School  Street.  —  June  17.  Jacob’s  Great  test 
liquor  case  in  Police  Court.  —  October  19.  A  tar 
and  feathering  liquor  informer  case  occurred.  — 
November  19.  Iron  fence  around  the  Cemetery  on 
the  Common  completed. — November  21.  Steam 
communication  botween  St.  Johns  and  Boston 
opened.  —  Marcus  Morton  elected  Governor  by 
one  vote  this  year. 

1840.  Jonathan  Chapman,  Mayor.  —  February 
8.  William  Miller  (Father  of  Millerism)  first  lec¬ 
tured  in  Boston.  —  February  10.  Governor  Morton 
signs  a  new  Liquor  Bill ;  great  rejoicing.  Coun¬ 
seller  Gill  preserves  the  Governor’s  pen  that  did 
the  deed.  —  March  10.  Daguerreotypes  first  taken 
in  Boston.  —  May  1.  James  H.  Blake  appointed 
City  Marshal,  James  Barry,  Captain  of  the  Watch. 
Police  appropriation  $4,500  ;  Watch  appropriation 
$40,000:  Marshal’s  salary,  $1,000;  Captain  of 
Watch,  1,000  ;  14  Police,  110  Watchmen.  Police 
pay,  1.75  per  day ;  Watchman’s  pay,  90  cents  per 
night.  —  May  28.  One  hundred  thirty- two  building- 
lots  sold  on  Lowell  Street.  —  June  4.  Steam 
Packet  communication  opened  between  Boston  and 
Liverpool.  —  July  4.  Celebrated  with  great  spirit, 
partaking  somewhat  of  a  political  character.  “  Log 


0  BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 

p 

Cabins”  “  Coon  Skins”  and  “  Hard  Cider”  were 
in  the  play,  and  “ Tippecanoe  and  Tyler  too”  were 
the  watchwords.  —  The  Iron  fence  completed  be¬ 
tween  the  Granary  burial-ground  and  Tremont 
Street.  —  August  8.  Monsieur  Bihin,  the  Bel¬ 
gian  Giant  eight  feet  high,  on  exhibition  in  Boston. 
—  December  22.  Hannah  Kenney  on  trial  for 
poisoning  her  husband. 

1841.  Jonathan  Chapman,  Mayor.  February 
15.  Father  Matthew,  the  Irish  Temperance  Re¬ 
former,  in  Boston.  —  March  18.  Old  County  Court 
House  fitted  up,  and  named  City  Hall.  The  Gov¬ 
ernment  removed  there  from  Old  Town  House.  — 
March  28.  Davis  and  Palmer’s  store,  Washington 
Street,  robbed  of  $20,000  in  jewelry.  Constable 
Clapp  afterwards  recovers  the  property.  —  Front 
Street  to  be  called  Harrison  Avenue.  —  April  21. 
Funeral  of  President  Harrison  solemnized  in  Bos¬ 
ton.  —  June  14.  Boston  Museum,  Corner  Tremont 
and  Bromfield  streets  opened.  —  August  2.  Cor¬ 
ner  stone  of  Merchants  Exchange,  State  Street 
laid.  —  September  23.  The  first  pillar  of  Mer¬ 
chants  Exchange,  weighingfifty-five  tons,  was  raised 
to-day.  —  October  25.  Circuses  opened  on  both 
Haverhill  and  Friend  streets.  —  November  15.  Abby 
Folsom  broke  up  a  meeting  in  Marlboro’  Chapel.  — 
November  24.  The  French  Prince  De  Joinville  danced 
in  Faneuil  Hall  with  the  Mayor’s  lady.  —  December 
3 1 .  The  Municipal  court  docket  for  the  year  showed 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


81 


five  hundred  and  sixty-nine  cases,  Judge  Thacher 
having  been  on  the  Bench  one  hundred  and  sixty- 
six  days  during  the  year. 

1842.  Jonathan  Chapman,  Mayor.  —  January 
21.  Elder  Knapp,  a  revival  preacher,  who  was 
reported  to  have  said,  “  It  is  easier  for  a  shad  to 
climb  a  greased  barber’s  pole  tail  foremost,  than  for 
a  sinner  to  get  to  heaven,”  held  forth  in  Boston.  — 
April  25.  Abby  Folsom  and  Joseph  Lamson  created 
sensations.  —  May  16.  The  first  watering-machine 
used  for  wetting  streets  in  Boston.  —  July  4.  It 
was  said  that  8,000  school  children  were  on  the 
Common  in  the  day,  and  100,000  witnessed  the 
fireworks  in  the  evening.  —  July  23.  The  Cap 
stone  of  Bunker  Hill  Monument  laid.  —  September 
27.  Brigade  muster  on  the  Common.  Boston 
represented  by  fourteen  companies. 

1843.  Martin  Brimmer,  Mayor.  —  January  1. 
Merchants  Exchange  (State  Street)  opened.  — 
April  23.  The  day  fixed  by  the  Prophet  Miller 
for  the  end  of  the  world.  A  large  number  of  be¬ 
lievers  assembled  at  the  Miller  Tabernacle  (Howard 
Street)  in  the  evening,  expecting  to  take  their  leave 
of  earth  that  night ;  but  nothing  unusual  happened 
but  the  meeting .  —  May  9.  Trees  ordered  to  be 
planted  on  Copp’s  Hill.  —  May  22.  Tom  Thumb 
first  appeared  in  Boston.  —  June  16.  Abner  Rogers 
killed  Warden  Charles  N.  Lincoln,  at  Charlestown 
State  Prison. — June  17.  John  Tyler,  President 


62 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


of  the  United  States,  visited  Boston. — Honorable 
William  Simmons,  Judge  of  the  Police  Court,  died. 

—  July  11.  Judge  Cushing  first  took  his  seat  as 
Judge  in  the  Police  Court. — August  27.  A  riot 
in  North  Square  between  negroes  and  sailors. — 
September  4.  General  Winfield  Scott  visited  Boston. 

—  September  6.  Judge  Cummins  held  the  Muni¬ 
cipal  Court,  Judge  Thacher  late  deceased.  —  Novem¬ 
ber  30.  Centre  Watch  removed  from  Joy’s  build¬ 
ings  to  City  building,  Court  Square. —  The  Captain 
of  the  Watch  fined  for  smoking  in  the  street.  — 
John  B.  Gough  lectured  in  Faneuil  Hall.  — Decem¬ 
ber  28.  The  Tremont  Theatre  having  been  pur¬ 
chased  by  a  Religious  Society,  was  dedicated  and 
called  Tremont  Temple. 

1844.  Martin  Brimmer,  Mayor.  —  January  1. 
Post  Office  removed  from  Old  State  House  to 
Merchants  Exchange,  State  Street.  —  February  3. 
Men  drove  teams  and  skated  from  Long  Wharf  to 
Boston  Light.  John  Hill  &  Co.  cut  a  ship  chan¬ 
nel  for  the  British  steamer  to  pass  out.  —  May  20. 
Ole  Bull  gave  his  first  Violin  Concert  at  Melodeon, 

—  and  Mr.  Franklin  threw  three  somersets  at  the 
Circus.  —  June  4.  The  Fairchild  excitement  com¬ 
menced. —  July  2.  The  South  Watch  “ordered 
to  be  divided,  the  southern  branch  to  be  in  Canton 
Place.”  —  July  4.  Fireworks  on  the  easterly  part  of 
the  Common  for  the  last  time.  -  -  July  23.  The  old 
building,  corner  of  Union  and  Hanover  streets,  a 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


83 


competitor  for  the  birthplace  of  Franklin,  is  repair¬ 
ed  and  becomes  a  part  of  Diamond  Block.  —  Sep¬ 
tember  19.  Great  Whig  meeting  on  Boston  Com¬ 
mon.  —  The  close  of  the  year  is  noted  for  a  muni¬ 
cipal  political  strife.  —  A  Watchhouse  built  at 
South  Boston  during  the  fall. 

1845.  —  January  6.  The  City  Government  or¬ 
ganized  without  a  Mayor.  —  January  30.  Federal 
Street  Church  sold,  to  be  removed.  —  February  21. 
Thomas  A.  Davis  elected  Mayor,  at  the  eighth 
trial.  —  March  14.  Peter  York  sentenced  to  State 

i 

Prison  for  life,  for  killing  James  Norton,  in  Rich¬ 
mond  Street.  —  April  10.  Deacon  Samuel  H. 
Ilewes,  (Supt.  of  burials)  died.  ITe  planted  one 
hundred  and  seventy-two  trees  on  the  Common,  and 
many  in  the  burial-grounds.  —  May  26.  Washing¬ 
ton  Theatre  opened  at  253  Washington  Street.  — 
June  23.  Ira  Gibbs  appointed  City  Marshal.  —  July 
9.  Funeral  ceremonies  for  President  Jackson, 
who  died  June  8.  —  July  22.  Henry  Smith,  the 
Razor  Strop  man  in  State  Street,  crying  “  a  few 
more  left.”  —  September  4.  Juba  (the  dancer),  on 
exhibition.  —  October  6.  Mayor  Davis  resigned  on 
accour.t  of  ill  health.  —  October  18.  Howard 
Theatre  (built  on  the  site  of  the  Miller  Tabernacle) 
opened.  —  October  27.  Maria  Bickford  murdered 
in  Mount  Yernon  Avenue.  —  November  8.  Old 
Colony  Railroad  opened.  —  November  12.  Mayor 
Davis  died.  —  November  17.  Winthrop  House 
opened. 


84 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


1846.  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  Mayor.  January  15. 
Magnetic  Telegraph  line  put  up  from  Boston  to 
Springfield.  —  The  third  row  in  the  National  be¬ 
coming  noted.  —  March  24.  Albert  J.  Tirrell  on 
trial  for  the  murder  of  Maria  Bickford.  He  was 
acquitted.  —  May  14.  One  hundred  and  twenty- 
nine  vessels  arrived  in  Boston  Harbor.  —  May  16. 
War  between  the  United  States  and  Mexico  —  May 
19.  Mrs.  Pelby  exhibited  one  hundred  wax  figures 
at  Phillips's  Hall.  —  June  4.  Recruiting  parties 
patrolling  the  streets,  for  Mexican  War  volunteers. 
June  22.  —  Francis  Tukey  appointed  City  Marshal. 
—  July  City  Stables  being  removed  from  Hay- 
market  Square.  —  July  17.  The  Old  Eastern  Stage 
House,  Ann  Street,  removed.  —  August  20.  Mayor 
Quincy  broke  ground  at  Wayland,  for  the  “  Boston 
"Water  Works.”  —  September  21.  Adams  House 
opened.  —  September  29.  Trucks  and  carriages  to 
be  licensed. — November  2.  The  New  Boston 
Museum  between  Tremont  Street  and  Court 
Square,  opened.  —  During  the  year,  under  the 
direction  of  Marshal  Tukey,  the  Police  Depart¬ 
ment  was  reorganized.  —  The  force  numbered 
twenty-two  day,  and  eight  night  officers.  The 
former  on  duty  from  eight  a.  m.  till  nine  p.  m. 
Detailed  throughout  the  city,  reporting  to  the  Mar¬ 
shal  at  eight  a.  m.  and  two  p.  m.,  at  $2  per  day.  — 
The  latter  a  night  force,  particularly  for  the  de¬ 
tection  of  thieves,  at  pay  of  $1.25  per  night.  Police 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


85 


appropriation  $12,000. — Under  Captain  Barry, 
the  watch  numbered  about  one  hundred  and  fifty, 
going  out  half  of  each  night,  one  half  the  force 
alternately,  first  and  last  watch  at  a  pay  of  $1  per 
night.  The  North  Watch  was  in  Cross  Street,  the 
Centre  under  the  Court  House,  the  West  in  Derne 
Street,  Boylston,  in  Common  Street,  South  at  Can¬ 
ton  Street,  South  Boston  in  Broadway,  and  a  new 
house  building  at  East  Boston. 

1847.  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  Mayor.  January 
22.  Terrible  fire  in  Causeway,  Medford,  and 
Charlestown  streets.  A  complete  sheet  of  cinders 
covered  the  north  part  of  the  city,  presenting  one 
of  the  most  sublime  and  terrific  spectacles  ever 
witnessed.  —  February  7.  Currier  &  Trott’s  store, 
Washington  Street,  robbed  of  a  large  amount  of 
jewelry.  —  March  13.  The  Grand  Jury  found  one 
hundred  and  ninety-eight  bills  of  indictment.  — 
March  31.  A  temperance  meeting  (Deacon  Grant, 
President)  broken  up  at  Faneuil  Hall.  —  April  26. 
The  new  Custom  House,  at  the  head  of  Long 
Wharf,  (began  in  1837,  and  part  completed,)  illumin¬ 
ated. — April  27.  Corner-stone  of  Boston  Athemeum, 
Beacon  Street,  laid.  —  May  1.  The  Revere  House, 
Bowdoin  Square,  completed  and  opened.  —  May  13. 
The  Mayor  and  Aldermen  voted  to  license  no  more 
liquor  shops. — The  Bridge  Estate  purchased  by 
the  city.  —  June  5.  Mrs.  Partington’s  witty  sayings 

begin  to  appear  in  the  newspapers.  —  Ship  fever 

8 


86 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


raging  at  Deer  Island  ;  a  large  Police  force  detailed 
there.  —  June  9.  Mischievous  boys  come  near  de¬ 
stroying  the  Old  Elm,  by  placing  matches  in  a 
decayed  place.  —  June  12.  The  house  of  Deacon 
Grant,  the  temperance  reformer,  disgracefully  de¬ 
faced. —  June  16.  The  old  Custom  House,  Custom 
House  Street,  sold.  —  June  24.  Omnibus  war  be¬ 
tween  Mr.  King  and  Boston,  begun.  —  June  29. 
President  Polk  visited  Boston.  —  July  27.  Iron 
seats  placed  on  the  Common,  to  bar  whittlers .  — 
August  24.  Alexandre  Vattemare,  Paris,  Prefect  of 
Police ,  donated  books  to  Boston,  which  eventually 
formed  a  nucleus  for  a  Public  Library.  —  September 
8.  The  Assessors’  book  shows  real  estates  $97,- 
764,500,  and  personal  estate,  $64,595,900,  for 
Boston.  —  October  7.  News  reached  Boston  that 
the  American  Flag  is  flying  over  “  The  Halls  of  the 
Montezumas”  in  Mexico.  —  October  25.  New  Han¬ 
cock  Schoolhouse,  Richmond  Place,  completed.  — 
November  18.  The  Chinese  Junk  arrived  in  Boston 
Harbor.  —  November  20.  Corner-stone  of  Beacon 
Hill  Reservoir  laid.  —  December  13.  Workmen 
digging  down  Snowhill  Street,  tombs  exposed. 

1848.  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  Mayor.  January  7. 
Marshal  Tukey  recovered  $  1,100,  stolen  from 
Hughes  &  Co.,  by  digging  on  the  Public  Garden.  — 
j February  29.  City  Hall  in  mourning  for  Honor¬ 
able  John  Quincy  Adams,  born  July  11,  1767, 
died  February  23,  1848.  —  March  10.  The  twenty- 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


87 


eight-gallon  liquor  law  passed.  —  March  14.  Sam 
Houston,  of  Texas,  at  Tremont  Temple. — April  27. 
Watchman  David  Estes  shot  in  Sister  Street,  while 
on  duty.  Night  Policeman  James  S.  Kimball  nar¬ 
rowly  escaped  the  same  fate  at  the  hands  of  burg¬ 
lars.  —  May  2.  Marshal  Tukey  fined  for  fast 
driving.  —  June  16.  General  order  to  complain 
of  all  persons  smoking  in  the  streets.  —  June  28. 
Dearborns  Block,  in  Federal  Street,  fell  with  a  ter¬ 
rible  crash.  —  July  22.  The  Massachusetts  Regi¬ 
ment,  Colonel  Isaac  H.  Wright,  returned  from  the 
Mexican  war.  —  August  9.  Granite  depot  for 
Fitchburg  Railroad,  completed.  —  August  24.  Dr. 
Collyer’s  Model  Artist,  at  Melodeon.  —  September 
18.  Thrilling  account  of  gold  in  California  reaches 
Boston.  —  October  25.  Grand  celebration  of  the 
introduction  of  Lake  Cochituate  water  into  Boston, 
and  a  jet  of  water  sent  up  from  the  fountain  in  the 
Frog  Pond,  — xm  event  worthy  of  commemoration.  — 
December  27.  The  ship  Salstillo  left  Boston  with 
twelve  passengers  for  the  California  gold  mines.  — 
The  Police  number  twenty-two  day  officers,  twenty 
night  officers,  and  nine  specials  for  Sunday.  A 
Police  Clerk  appointed.  Police  appropriation, 
$29,000  ;  Watch  appropriation,  $58,000. 

1849.  John  Prescott  Bigelow,  Mayor. — Janu¬ 
ary  1.  Good  sleighing  and  great  horseracing  on 
the  Neck.  —  January  9.  Ship  Edward  Everett 
and  two  others,  clear  for  California.  —  February 


88 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


19.  The  City  Government  offer  a  reward  of  fifty 
cents  for  every  dog’s  head.  —  February  21.  Peo¬ 
ple  walk  on  the  ice  from  Long  Wharf.to  Spectacle 
Island. — Franklin  and  Blackstone  squares  laid 
out.  —  March  15.  Flouring  Mills  at  East  Boston 
commence  work.  —  May  21.  Marshal  Tukey 
showing  up  pickpockets  at  his  office. — May  25. 
Washington  Goode  hung  at  the  jail  for  the  murder 
of  Thomas  Harding,  in  Richmond  Street,  in  June 
last.  —  June  4.  The  Asiatic  Cholera  made  its 
appearance  in  Boston.  —  July  27.  Lieutenant 
Hunter,  a  notorious  swindler,  arrested.  —  August 
18.  William  Waberton  (Bristol  Bill),  a  notorious 
burglar,  arrested.  —  September  17.  James  Hayes, 
an  Irishman,  dies  in  Hamilton  Street,  aged  one 
hundred  and  eight  years. —  October  11.  Mont¬ 
gomery  House  opened  for  entertainment.  —  No¬ 
vember  1.  Eye  and  Ear  Infirmary  completed,  in 
Charles  Street.  —  November  7.  Great  meeting  of 
the  Sons  of  New  Hampshire,  at  Fitchburg  Hall.  — 
November  16.  Iron  fence  completed  about  Frank¬ 
lin  and  Blackstone  squares.  —  December  1.  The 
Statue  of  Aristides  placed  in  Louisburg  Square. 
—  December  19.  Deer  Island  Hospital  completed. 

1850.  John  Prescott  Bigelow,  Mayor  ;  Francis 
Tukey,  City  Marshal;  James  Barry,  Captain  Watch. 
In  his  address,  Mayor  Bigelow  said,  “  Boston  has 
197  schools,  20,000  pupils.  The  number  of  deaths 
exceeds  any  previous  year,  owing  to  cholera,  being 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


89 


5,068.  There  are  50  Police  Officers,  225  Watch¬ 
men,  the  beat  of  each  man  averaging  over  a  mile. 
The  expense  of  Police  and  Watch,  $113,000  per 
year.  The  Water  Works  are  nearly  completed,  at  a 
cost  of  $4,939,824 ;  and  the  city  debt,  exclusive  of 
water,  is  $1,623,863.”  —  January  14.  The  clock 
in  Faneuil  Hall  presented  to  the  city  by  children. 
—  February  8.  “  The  Liberty  Tree  Block,”  corner 

of  Essex  and  Washington  streets,  completed. — May 
18.  Chester  Square  laid  out.  —  June  3.  Mr. 
Glidden  exhibited  an  Egyptian  mummy  at  Tremont 
Temple.  —  August  15.  Funeral  procession  of  Pres¬ 
ident  Zachary  Taylor.  — August  30.  Professor  John 
W.  Webster  hung  at  the  Jail  yard  for  the  murder 
of  Dr.  George  Parkman,  the  23d  of  November  last, 
at  the  Medical  College.  —  September  28.  Jenny 
Lind  sang  at  Tremont  Temple.  Ossian  E.  Dodge 
paid  $625.00  for  choice  of  seat.  —  October  26.  Slave- 
catchers  arrested  in  Boston ;  great  excitement  among 
colored  people.  —  October  30.  Great  sale  of  build¬ 
ing  lots  in  Chester  Square.  — November  15.  Free 
Soil  meeting  at  Faneuil  Hall  broken  up.  —  Decem¬ 
ber  31.  Number  of  dwelling-houses  in  Boston 
13,173.  Inhabitants  138,788. 

Heretofore  I  have  been  under  the  necessity  of 

leaving  the  reader  to  judge  of  the  character  of 

Watch  and  Police  duties,  from  the  nature  of 

transpiring  events,  the  manners,  customs,  opinions, 

8* 


90 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


and  tastes  of  the  people,  and  the  peculiar  rules  and 
regulations  that  governed  them  at  the  time.  Hav¬ 
ing  now  become  intimately  engaged  in  those  duties 
myself,  I  shall  hereafter  generally  speak  of  what 
has  fallen  under  my  own  observation. 

1851.  John  Prescott  Bigelow,  Mayor;  Francis 
Tukey,  City  Marshal ;  James  Barry,  Captain  of  the 
Watch,  who  are  detailed  exclusively  for  night  duty, 
the  beats  extending  entirely  over  the  city,  and  each 
man  on  his  beat  one  half  the  night.  The  City 
Marshal  had  one  deputy,  one  clerk,  one  superin¬ 
tendent  hacks,  one  superintendent  trucks,  one  of 
swill,  and  one  of  intelligence  offices,  who  also  had 
a  particular  eye  after  the  day  men ;  forty  day  officers 
on  patrol  on  beats  throughout  the  city,  and  about 
twenty  night  patrol  officers  to  catch  thieves,  together 
with  five  detectives.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  day 
men  to  report  at  the  Marshal’s  Office  at  eight  a.  m., 
go  on  beats  till  two  p.  m.,  then  report  and  go  out 
again  till  nine  in  the  evening.  We  looked  out  for 
our  respective  districts,  the  Marshal  and  his  as¬ 
sistant  when  in  sight  of  a  corner,  and  our  two 
dollars  per  day.  The  night  police  did  about  the 
same  thing  for  $  1.3 7 J  per  night.  —  On  the  eve  of 
the  23d  of  April,  this  year,  we  made  the  great 
Police  descent  in  Ann  Street,  capturing  some  one 
hundred  and  sixty  bipeds,  who  were  punished  for 
piping,  fiddling,  dancing,  drinking,  and  attending 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


91 


crimes.  In  the  fall  of  this  year,  the  Marshal  seemed 
to  think  that  things  looked  a  little  squally,  and 
under  his  direction  we  very  quietly  dabbled  a  little 
(very  little)  in  politics  at  the  election.  Our  choice 
was  successful,  and  we  were  in  very  good  spirits  at 
the  close  of  the  year,  in  anticipation  of  a  longer  job. 

1852.  Benjamin  Seaver,  Mayor;  Francis  Tukey, 
City  Marshal,  with  the  organization  unchanged.  — 

A  new  prohibitory  liquor  law  was  passed  in  May, 

\ 

which  enjoined  peculiar  duties  on  City  Marshals, 
imposing,  as  it  was  said,  a  little  too  much  responsi¬ 
bility  ;  and  from  that  or  some  other  cause,  on  the 
24th  of  June  following,  the  office  of  City  Marshal 
was  abolished  in  Boston,  and  Francis  Tukey  was 
appointed  Chief  of  Police.  I  have  said  that  the 
municipal  election  resulted  in  our  choice ;  but  no 
sooner  had  we  got  our  man  in ,  than  he  began  to 
get  us  out ,  —  and  served  us  right,  too,  for  meddling 
with  politics.  In  filling  the  places  of  the  outs ,  I 
must  say  I  think  the  Mayor  was  sometimes  unfortu¬ 
nate.  This  got  the  Mayor  and  his  Chief  by  the 
ears,  and  the  Mayor  having  the  best  hold,  pulled  off 
the  Chief's  head ,  together  with  the  heads  of  his 
whole  night  force  and  a  part  of  the  day.  His 
Honor  was  indeed  after  all  of  us  with  a  sharp  stick ; 
but  some  were  like  Paddy’s  flea,  —  “  When  ye  put 
yer  finger  on  ’im,  he  aint  thar !  ”  It  was  the  19th 
day  of  July,  that  the  Mayor  pulled  off  Chief  Tukey’s 
head,  and  Gilbert  Nurse,  Esq.  was  appointed  Chief 


92 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


of  Police  the  same  day.  A  better  man  never  lived. 
Said  a  Frenchman  to  a  Yankee  one  day,  “  Yat 
drinque  ish  dat  ye  have  in  dish  countrie,  vat  is  all 
conthradiction  ?  ”  “  What  do  you  mean  ?  ”  says  Yan¬ 
kee.  “  Vy,  dar  ish  de  brandie,  to  make  him 
sthronge,  and  de  vatre,  to  make  him  veak  ;  dar  ish 
de  lemon,  to  make  him  sour,  an’  de  sugar  to  make 
him  schweet.”  “ Punch said  Jonathan.  “Ah! 
oui ,  om,”  says  Francis,  “  he  like  punch  me  brain  out 
last  night.”  When  Mr.  Nurse  came  into  office,  he 
found  our  Department  very  much  like  the  French¬ 
man’s  drink,  and  it  came  near  accomplishing  the 
same  result  on  our  worthy  Chief;  but  notwithstand¬ 
ing  all  the  difficulties,  he  went  to  work  with  a  steady 
hand,  and  really  made  many  important  improve¬ 
ments. 

,  1853.  Benjamin  Seaver,  Mayor.  Gilbert  Nurse 
Chief  of  Police,  with  two  deputies,  the  usual  num¬ 
ber  of  office  men,  and  fifty-two  day  patrol  men. 
No  night  police.  The  Chiefs  salary  was  $1,800, 
and  the  Police  appropriation,  $44,200.  —  In  June , 
robberies  on  vessels  and  on  the  wharves  having 
become  very  common,  a  Harbor  Police  was  organ¬ 
ized,  consisting  of  a  Captain  and  ten  men  ;  House 
at  head  of  Sargent’s  wharf.  They  were  furnished 
with  row  boats,  and  armed  with  Colt’s  revolvers ; 
and  plenty  of  work  they  found  to  do.  Heretofore, 
for  some  years,  the  officers  had  worn  leather 
badges,  buckled  round  the  hat,  with  the  word 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


93 


Police  in  large  silyer  letters,  and  a  number  in  front. 
This  year,  on  June  1,  we  were  furnished  a  new 
badge,  to  be  worn  on  the  left  lapel  of  the  coat. 
It  was  an  oblong,  six-pointed  brass  star,  about  as 
big  as  one’s  hand,  with  an  unintelligible  device  in 
the  centre,  and  looked  more  like  a  Sculpin’s  head 
than  a  Policeman#  badge. — For  some  years  past, 
there  had  been  a  talk  of  reorganizing  the  Watch 
and  Police,  and  on  May  23d  of  this  year,  the  Leg¬ 
islature  empowered  Poston  to  make  the  change  ; 
but  there  were  no  steps  taken  in  that  direction  by 
the  City  Government  till  the  following  year. — 
December  29.  James  Barry,  having  faithfully 
served  the  City  as  Captain  of  the  Watch  fourteen 
successive  years,  resigned  his  office,  and  Captain 
William  K.  Jones  was  appointed  in  his  stead. 

1854.  Jerome  Van  Crowninshield  Smith,  Mayor. 
Gilbert  Nurse,  Chief  of  Police.  I  have  said  that 
the  Legislature  had  empowered  Boston  to  reorgan¬ 
ize  her  Watch  and  Police,  and  there  were  probably 
some  good  reasons  why  it  should  be  done.  There 
were  two  departments,  under  different  heads,  and, 
although  there  was  at  this  time  no  disunion,  yet 
under  the  direction  of  other  and  different  men  at 
the  head  of  so  large  forces,  there  might  be.  The 
Police  by  themselves,  were  still  a  little  like  the 
Frenchman’s  punch.  The  watch  were  paid  only 
one  dollar  per  night,  and  were  obliged  to  work 
by  day  also,  to  support  their  families ;  and,  good 


94 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


men  as  they  were,  who  could  expect  them  to  work 
day  and  night  without  sleep  or  rest?  Under  this 
state  of  things,  most  of  the  people  and  a  part  of 
the  Government  were  in  favor  of  the  change ;  but 
a  majority  of  the  Council  were  opposed  to  the 
measure,  and  claimed  a  voice  in  the  matter.  How¬ 
ever,  the  appointing  and  the  discharging  power  in 
both  departments  were,  by  law,  vested  in  the  Board 
of  Mayor  and  Aldermen ;  and  one  day,  Mayor 
Smith,  with  the  countenance  of  the  Aldermen,  dis¬ 
charged  every  man  on  both  Watch  and  Police,  and 
out  of  their  number  appointed  a  Department  of 
Police ,  the  discharge  and  appointments  to  take 
effect  on  a  subsequent  day. 

On  the  26th  day  of  May,  1854,  at  precisely  six 
o’clock  p.  m.,  the  Boston  Watch  and  Police,  which 
had  lived  two  hundred  and  twenty-nine  years, 
ceased  to  exist,  and  44  The  Boston  Police  Depart¬ 
ment”  became  an  Institution. 

The  New  Department  was  under  the  supervision 
of  a  Chief  of  Police,  subject  to  the  direction  of  the 
Mayor,  and  consisted  of  about  two  hundred  and  fifty 
men,  with  the  following  divisions:  Chief,  2  Depu¬ 
ties,  Clerk,  Superintendent  Hacks,  Superintendent 
Teams,  5  Detectives.  Office  at  City  Hall.  Station 
No.  1.  Captain,  2  Lieutenants,  33  Patrolmen,  House 
Hanover  Street ;  No.  2,  Captain,  2  Lieutenants,  44 
Patrolmen,  House  Court  Square ;  No.  3.  Captain, 
2  Lieutenants,  23  Patrolmen,  House  Joy  Street; 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


95 


No.  4.  Captain,  2'.  Lieutenants,  43  Patrolmen, 
House  rear  Boylston  Market ;  No.  5.  Captain,  2 
Lieutenants,  24  Patrolmen,  House  Canton  Street 
Place ;  No  6.  Captain,  2  Lieutenants,  25  Patrol¬ 
men,  House  Broadway,  South  Boston;  No.  7. 
Captain,  2  Lieutenants,  19  Patrolmen,  House  Me¬ 
ridian  Street,  East  Boston ;  No.  8.  Captain,  and 
10  Boatmen  and  Patrolmen,  House  head  Sargent’s 
wharf.  The  territory  of  the  whole  city  and  har¬ 
bor,  were  proportionately  divided  between  the  sta¬ 
tions,  and  the  Captain  of  each,  assisted  by  his  Lieu¬ 
tenants,  had  the  supervision  of  his  district  and 
men,  under  the  direction  of  the  Chief.  Each  Sta¬ 
tion  consisted  of  three  divisions  of  patrolmen ;  one 
for  day,  and  two  for  night  duty.  The  day  division 
go  out  at  eight  o’clock,  a  m.  and  remain  till  six 
o’clock  p.  m.,  when  they  were  relieved  by  a  night 
division,  and  report  to  their  Station  House,  and 
are  often  detailed  for  extra  duty  at  places  of  amuse¬ 
ment,  or  elsewhere,  in  the  evening,  for  which  they 
get  extra  pay.  The  night  division  remain  on  duty 
from  six  p.  M.,  to  one  next  morning,  when  they 
are  relieved  by  the  other  night  division,  who  re¬ 
main  out  till  eight  o’clock,  when  they  in  turn  are 
relieved  by  the  day  men.  The  second  night,  the 
night  division  change  watches,  the  last  out  the 
night  previous,  going  out  first,  and  the  first,  last ; 
and  so  alternately  through  the  year,  for  the  con¬ 
venience  of  giving  both  night  divisions  a  better 


96 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


chance  to  do  day  house  duty,  which  every  night 
man  does  once  in  six  days.  This  regulation  gives 
every  man  his  own  beat  every  day  and  night,  and 
gives  him  the  opportunity  to  know  his  route,  and 
the  wants  of  those  on  it,  better  than  any  other, 
which  is  very  important  to  both  officer  and  citizen, 
and  which  he  cannot  know  too  well  if  a  good  man  ; 
if  not ,  he  should  not  he  there.  The  badge  of  the 
old  Police  for  the  day,  and  the  hook  and  rattle  for 
the  night,  were  continued  for  a  time,  and  the 
Houses  of  the  old  watch  were  made  Station  Houses. 
The  salary  of  the  new  Chief,  Robert  Taylor,  Esq., 
was  $1,800  per  year;  Captains,  $3,00  per  day; 
Patrolmen,  $2.00  per  day,  or  night  and  other  of¬ 
ficers  in  proportion.  Every  officer  to  devote  his 
whole  time,  and  have  no  other  employment,  al¬ 
though  extra  pay  was  allowed  for  extra  work, 
when  done  for  others  than  the  city. 

On  the  evening  of  the  reorganization,  about  ten 
o’clock,  the  whole  force,  at  a  moment’s  notice,  were 
called  to  Court  Square,  to  suppress  a  fearful  riot 
caused  by  the  arrest  of  a  fugitive  slave,  Anthony 
Burns,  by  United  States  officers,  in  which  one  man 
was  killed  and  others  dangerously  wounded.  The 
whole  department  were  out  nine  days  and  nights, 
performing  a  most  unpleasant  duty  under  trying 
circumstances,  and,  with  the  solitary  exception  of 
one  individual,  met  the  highest  anticipations  of  their 
friends.  —  October  23.  The  brass  badge  was  ex- 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


97 


changed  for  a  silver  octagon  oval  plate,  little  larger 
than  a  silver  dollar,  with  a  “ five-pointed  star  ,”  on 
which  was  engraved  Boston  Police,  and  the  old 
watchhook,  in  use  one  hundred  and  fifty-four  years, 
gave  place  to  a  fourteen-inch  club,  the  night  men 
retaining  the  rattle.  Such  was  the  condition  of  the 
Department  when  organized  in  1854,  and,  with 
little  variation,  it  is  so  in  1865.  And  although  the 
name  is  now  “  The  Boston  Police  Department,”  yet 
the  night  duties  are  virtually  a  watch ,  as  heretofore, 
and  I  shall  venture  to  continue  my  history  under 
the  head  of  “  The  Boston  Watch  and  Police.” 

1855.  Jerome  Van  Crownin shield  Smith, 
Mayor ;  Robert  Taylor,  Chief  of  Police.  Police 
appropriation,  $188,000. — April  9.  The  Chief 
was  ordered  forthwith  to  report  to  the  Mayor,  “'the 
name,  age,  nativity ,  residence,  time  of  residence  in 
Boston,  and  former  occupation  of  each  member  of 
the  Department,  or  applicant  for  office,  and  to  keep 
a  copy  of  said  list  in  his  office.”  In  June,  both 
branches  of  the  City  Government  joined  in  forming 
an  ordinance  establishing  the  “  Boston  Police  De¬ 
partment,”  and  thus  recognized  an  organization 
which,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  had  been  in  suc¬ 
cessful  operation  more  than  a  year.  Although  at 
first  the  Mayor  was  under  the  necessity  of  appoint¬ 
ing  the  Chief  of  Police  Captain  of  the  Watch  also, 
and  the  captains,  constables,  a  Police  Committee, 

9 


98 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


consisting  of  four  Aldermen,  was  appointed  during 
the  year. 

1856.  Alexander  Hamilton  Rice,  Mayor;  and 
April  9,  Daniel  J.  Coburn  was  appointed  Chief 
of  Police,  with  a  salary  of  $2,200,  and  horse  and 
chaise.  Police  appropriation,  $  198,000.  The 
Police  Committee  consisted  of  three  Aldermen. 
At  the  annual  Police  appointments,  the  council 
have  a  voice  for  the  only  time  in  the  history  of  the 
city.  An  Assistant  Clerk  appointed  this  year. 

1857.  Alexander  Hamilton  Rice,  Mayor. — 

March  30.  “  Father ”  Hezekiah  Earl  died,  having 

been  an  officer  twenty-five  years,  and  one  of  the 
Deputy  Chiefs  since  1853.  He  had  the  care  of  the 
Internal  Health  Department,  and  was  a  good  officer 
and  worthy  man.  —  March  30.  As  an  act  of 
courtesy,  the  Board  appointed  the  members  of  the 
Common  Council  Police  Officers.  The  regular 
force  were  increased  to  266  men.  A  city  prison 
was  fitted  up  under  the  Court  House  for  the  recep¬ 
tion  of  prisoners,  night  and  morning  from  the  Sta¬ 
tions,  and  a  Superintendent  appointed.  —  October 
18.  Policeman  Ezekiel  W.  Hodsdon  murdered  by 
two  burglars  at  East  Boston  while  attempting  their 
arrest.  Police  appropriation,  $205,500.  A  new 
Station  House  in  East  Dedham  Street  was  built  for 
Station  No.  5,  at  a  cost  of  $17,000. 

1858.  Frederic  Walker  Lincoln  Jr.,  Mayor. 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


99 


In  June,  the  silver  badge  was  altered,  leaving  off 
the  star,  and  cutting  numbers  through  the  plate, 
the  number  of  each  officer  being  recorded  at  the 
Chief’s  Office.  —  In  August ,  the  Police  Telegraph, 
connecting  each  Station  (except  Station  No.  7)  with 
the  Chief  office,  was  established.  —  November  1. 
The  new  Police  uniform  was  put  on,  consisting  of 
blue  coat,  Police  buttons,  blue  pants  and  black  vests, 
dress  coat  for  Chief  and  Captains,  and  frock  coat 
for  Deputy  and  Patrolmen.  Police  appropriation, 
$214,000. 

1859.  Frederic  Walker  Lincoln,  Jr.,  Mayor. —  * 
February  28.  Sergeants  of  Police  were  appointed, 
two  to  each  Station,  except  the  Harbor  Police. 
Police  were  detailed  from  each  Station  to  do  fire 
Police  duty,  formerly  done  by  constables,  and  six 
fire  Police  suits  of  rubber  were  furnished  for  each 
Station.  —  A  new  Station  House  for  No.  7  was 
built  in  Meridian  Street,  East  Boston,  at  a  cost  of 
$16,000,  and  old  Hancock  Schoolhouse,  in  Han¬ 
over  Street,  was  enlarged  and  improved  for  Station 
No.  1,  costing  some  $6,000.  Police  appropriation, 
$229,700. 

1860.  Frederic  Walker  Lincoln,  Jr.,  Mayor. 
Police  Committee  three  Aldermen,  as  last  year.  — 
The  Police  were  increased  to  two  hundred  and 
ninety-two  men.  A  Captain  of  Detectives  ap¬ 
pointed,  and  a  sailboat  purchased  for  the  use 
of  the  Harbor  Police,  manned  by  four  men.  In 


100 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


consequence  of  a  difficulty  with  some  unruly 
members  of  the  Police,  the  Government  got  the 
idea  that  change  was  required,  and  each  Station 
was  organized  into  six  divisions,  each  division  going 
out  six  hours  alternately,  day  and  night,  abolishing 
the  regular  day  force ;  and  the  arrangement  was 
such  that  a  man  went  on  his  own  beat  but  once  in 
two  days,  this  was  the  principal  object  aimed  at, 
but  the  plan  worked  bad ;  the  Police  did  not  like 
it,  the  people  did  not  like  it,  nor  did  the  Govern¬ 
ment  like  it,  and  the  next  spring  we  went  back  on 
the  old  plan.  Police  appropriation,  $228,000. 

1861.  Joseph  Milner  Wightman,  Mayor.  Feb¬ 
ruary  11.  Josiah  L.  C.  Amee,  Chief  of  Police. — 
April  15.  President  Lincoln  issued  his  proclama¬ 
tion,  “  That  in  consequence  of  the  bombardment 

t 

and  capture  of  Fort  Sumter,  in  the  harbor  of  South 
Carolina,  by  a  force  inimical  to  the  United  States 
Government,  war  is  inaugurated  between  the  United 
States  and  the  seceding  States,  South  Carolina, 
Georgia,  Alabama,  Florida,  Mississippi,  Louisiana, 
and  Texas.”  This  was  the  opening  scene  in  a 
tragedy  the  most  fearful  since  the  world  began,  and 
one  in  which  Boston  took  a  most  active  part,  open¬ 
ing  a  new  field,  requiring  vigilance,  activity,  and 
deep  responsibilities  on  all  her  municipal  officers, 
and  the  Police  were  at  all  times  held  in  readiness 
for  any  emergency.  During  the  remainder  of  the 
year,  military  processions,  parades,  receptions,  re- 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


101 


views,  and  other  gatherings  continually  tilled  the 
streets,  and  Police  details  from  ten  to  one  hundred 
and  fifty  officers  were  made  on  one  hundred  and 
thirty-six  occasions  for  these  alone.  The  Harbor 
Police  were  also  in  constant  requisition  for  duty  on 
the  water.  Deserters  from  both  army  and  navy 
were  arrested  and  returned  to  their  places,  and  re¬ 
cruiting  offices  guarded.  In  fact,  wherever  aid  or 
protection  was  required,  there  were  the  Police  to 
be  found.  —  A  Police  Tent  was  provided  this  year 
for  furnishing  refreshments,  and  also  as  a  place  for 
Police  headquarters  at  large  details.  A  rogue’s 
picture-gallery  was  also  commenced,  and  about  one 
hundred  valuable  likenesses  collected. 

1862.  Joseph  Milner  Wightman,  Mayor;  Jo- 
siah  L.  C.  Amee,  Chief  of  Police.  Details  for 
military  escort,  procession  and  receptions,  con¬ 
tinued  as  last  year.  The  Police  force  increased  to 
three  hundred  and  seventeen  men.  —  March  1.  A 
Police  Relief  Association  established  among  the 
members  ;  assessments  twenty-five  cents  per  month 
for  each  member  ;  benefits  in  sickness  not  over  $5 
per  week.  It  was  dissolved  early  the  next  year  by 
an  almost  unanimous  vote  of  the  members.  —  July 
25.  Great  war  meetings  commence  to  be  held  on 
the  Common,  which  continued  each  day  for  several 
weeks.  Tents  and  speakers  stands  raised.  —  The 
Old  South  Church  opened  as  a  recruiting  office.  — 
Sunday,  August  31.  News  received  of  the  terrible 

9* 


102 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


slaughter  at  second  Bull  Run  Battle.  Religious 
services  at  church  closed  and  contributions  of  every¬ 
thing  needed  for  wounded  soldiers  collected  in  large 
quantities,  which  were  packed  in  cases,  and,  in 
charge  of  State  and  City  Authorities  and  twenty 
Policemen,  were  immediately  on  their  way  to  Wash¬ 
ington.  —  December  22.  Corner-stone  of  New  City 
Hall  laid. — A  new  Station  House  built  in  Joy 
Street  for  Station  No.  3,  at  a  cost  of  $28,000.  The 
Station  removed  there  from  Leverett  Street. 

1863.  Frederic  Walker  Lincoln,  Jr.,  Mayor. 
January  10.  The  Old  City  Hall  about  to  be  removed 
and  the  City  Government  go  to  Mechanics  Hall, 
Chauncy  Street.  The  office  of  Chief  of  Police  was 
removed  to  a  place  in  the  basement  of  the  Court 
House.  —  February  24.  General  Amee  retired  from 
office,  and  Boston  has  no  Chief  of  Police.  By 
order  of  the  Mayor,  Deputy  Chief  E.  H.  Savage 
had  temporary  charge  of  the  Department.  —  March 
3.  Colonel  John  Kurtz  assumed  the  duties  of 
Chief  of  Police.  —  April  6.  Members  of  the  Police 
sworn  into  office,  having  been  appointed  during 
good  behavior  and  usefulness,  subject  only  to 
removal  by  the  Mayor,  the  annual  appointment 
ordinance  having  been  abolished,  both  of  which 
were  new  features  in  our  history.  —  April  28. 
The  Police  Department  met  at  Faneuil  Hall,  under 
the  Chief,  for  military  drill,  which  was  afterward 
continued  at  each  Station.  —  July  14.  The  great 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


103 


Conscription  Riot  at  North  End.  —  August  17.  A 
club  two  feet  long  carried  in  a  leather  belt  around 
the  waist  provided  for  the  Police.  —  Several  of  the 
force  have  enlisted  in  the  military  service. — De¬ 
tails  for  military  purposes  continued,  amounting  to 
one  hundred  and  eighty-seven,  with  from  six  to  one 
hundred  and  eighty  officers  at  each,  during  the  year. 

1864.  Frederic  Walker  Lincoln,  Jr.,  Mayor; 
Colonel  John  Kurtz,  Chief  of  Police.  —  No  new  or 
important  event  connected  with  the  Police  occurred 
during  the  year,  although  the  number  of  men  and 
the  duties  have  gradually  increased.  Military  regi¬ 
ments  were  continually  arriving  and  departing, 
and  details,  from  five  to  one  hundred  and  eighty 
men,  have  been  made  on  over  two  hundred  occa¬ 
sions  ;  and  the  records  show  a  greater  amount  of 
work  done  in  the  year,  than  ever  before. 

1865.  Frederic  Walker  Lincoln,  Jr.,  Mayor; 
Colonel  John  Kurtz,  Chief  of  Police.  —  February 
22.  News  that  President  Lincoln  had  signed  the 
Emancipation  Bill,  wras  received.  One  hundred 
guns  fired  on  the  Common,  flags  displayed,  bells 
rung,  and  great  rejoicing. — April  10.  The  news 
of  the  surrender  of  Lee’s  Rebel  army  reaches  Bos¬ 
ton,  and  causes  tremendous  excitement.  Cannon 
are  roaring  on  the  Common,  flags  are  thrown  out 
from  almost  every  building,  bells  are  pealing, 
twenty  steam-engines  are  rushing,  screaming 
through  the  streets,  and  people  are  running  crazy 


104 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


with  joy.  A  great  portion  of  the  buildings  in  the 
city  illuminated  in  the  evening. — April  15.  The 
great  joy  of  the  people  turned  to  the  deepest  sor¬ 
row  at  the  reception  of  the  news  that  President 
Lincoln  fell  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin,  last  even¬ 
ing.  Business  was  immediately  suspended,  and  in 
a  few  hours,  the  entire  city  was  draped  in  mourn¬ 
ing.  —  June  1.  Funeral  in  memory  of  the  death  of 
President  Lincoln.  A  larger  procession  than  ever 
appeared  in  Boston,  passed  through  the  streets,  ac¬ 
companied  by  the  entire  Police  force ;  and  an  ora¬ 
tion  and  other  appropriate  ceremonies  closed  the 
solemn  scene. 

1866.  Frederic  Walker  Lincoln,  Jr.,  Mayor; 
John  Kurtz,  Chief  of  Police.  —  January  1. 
The  Police  force  numbers  375  men,  rank  and 
file.  January  11.  —  Daniel  J.  Coburn,  formerly 
Chief  of  Police,  died,  aged  63  years.  —  June 
3.  Ex-Mayor  Charles  Wells  died,  aged  79 
years  and  5  months.  —  June  13.  Bath-houses 
established  by  the  city,  the  Police  in  charge. — 
June  15.  A  new  code  of  Police  Pules  and  Reg¬ 
ulations  provided.  —  July  8.  A  delegation  of 
Police  carry  a  contribution  to  the  Police  of  Port¬ 
land,  who  were  sufferers  by  the  fire  in  that  city 
July  4th.  —  July  13.  A  detail  of  100  Police  on 
foot,  and  12  mounted  officers,  escort  Gen.  Sher¬ 
man  into  the  city.  —  September  4.  Workmen 
break  ground  in  commencing  to  level  Fort  Hill. 
—  September  13.  Reception  of  Loyal  Southerners 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


105 


at  Faneuil  Hall.  —  September  24.  Thirty  night- 
walkers,  from  Police  District  No.  3,  at  court. — 
October  12.  School-boys  drill  on  the  Common; 
a  detail  of  75  Police.  —  November  2.  W ork  com¬ 
menced  on  the  bridge  over  the  pond  on  the  Pub¬ 
lic  Garden.  —  November  14.  Astronomers  pre¬ 
dicted  a  shower  of  meteors  this  morning.  A  large 
number  of  persons  were  on  the  Common  to  wit¬ 
ness  the  event;  the  bells  were  to  be  rung  ten 
strokes;  watchmen  were  to  spring  their  rattles; 
but  the  shower  did  not  come.  —  December  4. 
Capt.  Robert  Taylor,  of  Police  Station  No.  6,  for¬ 
merly  Chief  of  Police,  died. 

1867.  Otis  Norcross,  Mayor;  John  Kurtz, 
Chief  of  Police.  —  January  1.  The  Police 
force  numbers  383  men.  —  February  4.  Gen. 
Josiah  L.  C.  Amee,  formerly  Chief  of  Police, 
died.  —  June  1.  Base  Ball  becoming  an  insti¬ 
tution.  Police  Officers  with  ropes  and  stakes 
called  into  requisition  on  the  Common.  —  June 
24.  Dedication  of  Masonic  Temple,  corner  of 
Tremont  and  Boylston  Streets.  The  procession 
was  1^  hours  passing  a  given  point;  estimated 
10,000  Masons  present.  •  President  Andrew  John¬ 
son  and  suite,  and  many  distinguished  persons, 
witnessed  the  cermonies.  A  detail  of  275  Police 
on  duty.  —  July  4,  Police  force  increased  for 
the  day  by  the  appointment  of  275  Specials; 
there  were  55  separate  Police  details  for  the 
occasion. — August  15.  James  H.  Blake,  for¬ 
merly  City  Marshal,  died.  —  September  9.  The 


106 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


citizens  of  Boston  and  Roxbury  vote  to  unite 
the  two  cities  under  one  Municipal  Government. 

—  September  12.  The  Blue  Hill  Bank,  of  Dor¬ 
chester,  robbed  of  $50,000.  —  September  15. 
Laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  the  Catholic 
church  corner  of  Washington  and  Union  Park 
Streets ;  100  Police  detailed  for  the  occasion.  — 
October  7.  Grand  reception  of  General  Sheridan 
in  Boston.  — November  2.  Funeral  of  Governor 
John  A.  Andrew;  100  Police  detailed  for  the 
occasion. — November  18.  Statue  of  Edward 
Everett  presented  to  the  city.  —  November  23. 
Francis  Tukey,  formerly  Chief  of  Police,  died  in 
California. 

1868.  Nathaniel  Bradstreet  Shurtleff,  Mayor; 
John  Kurtz,  Chief  of  Police.  —  January  1.  The 
Police  force  numbers  347  men.  —  Febimary  1 . 
Soup  made  and  distributed  to  the  poor  from  the 
several  Police  Station  Houses  for  the  first  time. 
April  2.  The  Police  furnished  with  a  new  Sil¬ 
ver  Badge.  —  April  11.  Resolve  and  order 
for  widening  Devonshire  Street  approved.  — 
April  13.  Roxbury  having  been  annexed  to 
Boston,  the  Roxbury  Police  were  reorganized, 
forming  District  Ko.  9,  Station  House  in  Old 
City  Hall,  Dudley  Street.  —  April  15.  Police¬ 
men  commence  to  canvass  the  city  in  aid  of  the 
Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals. 

—  April  28.  Luther  A.  Ham,  formerly  Deputy 
Chief  of  Police,  died.  —  May  30.  Posts  of  the 
Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  decorate  soldiers’ 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


106  a 


graves,  having  a  Police  escort.  —  June  3.  Water 
first  plaj^ed  from  the  Brewer  Fountain  on  the 
Common.  —  June  6.  Resolve  and  order  for 
widening  Tremont  Street  approved.  —  June  14. 
Religious  meetings  begin  to  be  held  in  Faneuil 
Hall.  —  June  27.  Dedication  of  the  Ether 
Monument  on  the  Public  Garden.  —  July  4. 
The  Police  force  increased  for  the  day  by  the 
appointment  of  200  Specials.  Among  the 
amusements  was  a  submarine  race  in  the  harbor. 
— July  8.  Reception  of  the  22d  New  York  Regi¬ 
ment. —  July  13.  Workmen  commence  to  raise 
the  Church-street  territory.  —  August  2.  Young 
Men’s  Christian  Association  commence  Sunday 
Services  under  a  tent  on  the  Common.  —  August 
20.  Reception  of  Hon.  Anson  Burlingame  and 
the  Chinese  Embassy.  —  October  28.  Republi¬ 
can  torchlight  procession.  —  October  29.  Demo¬ 
cratic  torchlight  procession.  —  November  20.  A 
bear  placed  in  the  enclosure  on  the  Common 
creates  a  sensation  among  the  deer;  the  Police 
called. — December  2.  Gen.  Grant  arrived  at 
St.  James  Hotel.  — December  8.  Tolls  taken  off 
from  the  Milldam  road.  —  December  18.  Resolve 
and  order  for  the  laying  out  of  Atlantic  Avenue 
signed.  —  December  31.  Resolve  and  order  for 
widening  Hanover  Street,  between  Court  and 
Blackstone,  approved. 

1869.  Nathaniel  Bradstreet  Shurtleff, Mayor; 
John  Kurtz,  Chief  of  Police.  —  January  1.  The 
Police  force  numbers  412  men.  —  February  16. 


106  6 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


Velocipede  Rinks  becoming  a  popular  resort.  — ■ 
February  25.  Water  let  into  the  Roxbury 
stand  pipe.  —  March  1.  The  Old  Bite  Tavern 
closed  as  a  public  house.  — April  7.  Ceremonies 
in  closing  the  Bromfield  House  as  a  public 
house.  —  April  26.  Odd  Fellows’  Celebration : 
a  large  procession.  —  May  22.  Old  Concert 
Hall  ceases  to  be  a  place  of  entertainment.  — 
May  26.  May  training;  artillery  firing  by  elec¬ 
tricity;  100  Police  on  duty  for  the  occasion. — 
May  29.  Decoration  Day.  —  June  15.  The 
National  Peace  Jubilee  commences  on  Back  Bay 
grounds;  300  Police  detailed  for  the  five  days. — 
June  16.  Military  review  of  Gen.  Butler’s  Bri¬ 
gade  by  President  Grant,  on  Tremont  Street, 
South  End,  and  on  the  Common.  —  June  19. 
Peace  Jubilee  closed.  The  300  Police  who  had 
been  on  that  duty  were  reviewed  and  addressed 
by  Mayor  Shurtleff  in  School  Street.  —  June  22. 
The  citizens  of  Boston  and  Dorchester  vote  to 
annex.  —  July  3.  Equestrian  Statue  of  Wash¬ 
ington  on  the  Public  Garden  dedicated.  —  July 
5.  The  National  Anniversary  celebrated  with 
usual  ceremonies,  the  Police  force  increased  by 
300  Specials  for  the  day.  —  August  2.  The 
territory  of  Roxbury,  divided  by  Washington 
Street  and  Shawmut  Avenue,  making  two 
Police  Districts,  the  east  part  forming  No. 
9  and  the  west  part  No.  10.  Station  House 
No.  10,  corner  of  Washington  and  Tremont 
Streets,  first  occupied.  —  August  6.  A  license 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


10  6  c 


granted  for  a  haunted  house  in  Springfield 
Street ;  but  it  was  soon  revoked.  —  August 
21.  Workmen  commence  moving  back  Hotel 
Pelham  to  widen  Tremont  Street,  corner  of  Boyl- 
ston  Street.  —  September  8.  A  terrible  hurricane 
blew  down  the  Coliseum  building  and  several 
other  buildings  in  the  city,  tore  up  trees  on  the 
Common  and  elsewhere;  a  Mr.  Clark  was  also 
killed  by  a  plank  blown  from  the  sidewalk  in  St. 
James  Avenue.  —  September  15.  Commence¬ 
ment  of  the  Mechanics’  Fair  at  Faneuil  Hall.  — 
September  17.  100  Police  detailed  on  the  occa¬ 
sion  of  the  Firemen’s  Parade.  A  detail  of  Police 
organized  for  duty  at  street  corners  in  the  cen¬ 
tral  part  of  the  city,  numbering  14  men,  head¬ 
quarters  in  the  basement  of  the  Court  House.  — 
September  26.  A  Festival  of  Irish  citizens,  num¬ 
bering  30,000  persons,  held  at  the  Coliseum,  300 
police  in  attendance.  —  October  12.  Italian  citi¬ 
zens  celebrate  the  anniversary  of  the  landing  of 
Columbus  in  America.  —  October  15.  Besolve 
and  order  for  widening  Hanover  Street,  between 
Blackstone  and  Commercial  Streets,  approved. — 
October  22.  Slight  shock  of  an  earthquake  at 
half-past  five  o’clock  in  the  morning.  —  October 
23.  Coliseum  Lottery  drawn:  100,000  tickets, 
5,200  prizes.  —  November  20.  Boylston  Bank 
robbed  of  about  $300,000.  —  December  7.  Great 
fire  on  Commercial  Wharf;  flour  mills  burned. 

1870.  Nathaniel  Bradstreet  Shurtleff,  May¬ 
or;  John  Kurtz,  Chief  of  Police.  —  January  1. 


106  d 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


The  Police  force  numbers  443  men.  Mystic  water 
introduced  into  East  Boston.  —  Febi'uary  5. 
His  Boyal  Highness  Patrick  William  Arthur 
arrived  at  the  St.  James  Hotel.  —  February  8. 
Boston  church  bells  toll,  and  flags  are  at  half- 
staff,  in  consequence  of  the  funeral  of  Mr  Pea¬ 
body.  —  February  9.  The  first  grand  ball  of 
the  Boston  Police  Department  at  Paneuil  Hall, 
to  raise  funds  for  the  benefit  of  disabled  officers. 

—  February  14.  The  Board  of  Aldermen 
abolish  the  Detective  Police  system.  —  February 
19.  Col.  John  Kurtz,  having  been  Chief  of 
Police  7  years,  resigned,  and  retired  from  office. 

—  April  4.  Edward  H.  Savage  appointed 
Chief  of  Police.  —  April  8.  A  deep  sensation 
caused  by  the  kidnapping  of  little  Kellie  Burns. 
— April  11.  Captain  James  Quinn  appointed 
Deputy  Chief  of  Police.  —  April  21.  The 
remains  of  Hon.  Anson  Burlingame  arrive  in 
Boston,  and  lie  in  state  at  Faneuil  Hall.  —  A 
show  up  of  rogues  commenced  at  the  office  of 
the  Chief  of  Police.  The  old  system  of  dealing 
with  this  class  of  persons  changed  for  a  trial  of 
the  experiment —  attempting  to  keep  thieves  out 
of  Boston  to  prevent  them  from  stealing  in  it.  — 
May  7.  The  Police  arrested  183  night-walkers, 
most  of  whom  were  subsequently  sent  to  their 
friends  out  of  the  city.  —  May  25-  A  great 
military  display  on  the  Common;  150  Police  in 
attendance.  —  June  1.  The  Dorchester  Police 
reorganized,  forming  District  Ko.  11;  Station 


BOSTON  WATCn  AND  POLICE. 


106  e 


House  on  Hancock  Street,  Ward  16.  —  June  2. 
The  Police  on  street  corners  becomes  a  part  of 
Division  No.  2.  Capt.  Asa  Morrill,  of  Police 
District  No.  3,  died.  —  June  10.  A  gallery  of 
rogues’  photographs  commenced  at  the  Central 
Police  Office.  —  June  25.  The  School  Regiment 
drilled  on  the  Common ;  150  Policemen  keep  the 
lines  about  the  parade  grounds.  —  July  4.  The 
usual  celebration;  200  Special  Police  appointed 
for  the  occasion.  —  July  13.  Order  to  contract 
for  raising  the  Suffolk-street  District  signed  by 
the  Mayor.  —  July  25.  Great  fire  on  Border 
Street,  East  Boston.  —  September  17.  Firemen’s 
Parade;  240  police  detailed  for  the  occasion. — 
October  1.  Policemen  put  on  the  new  Boston 
Police  Badge  and  Buttons .  —  October  16.  The 
corner-stone  of  the  Catholic  Children’s  Home  on 
Harrison  Avenue  laid;  150  Police  on  duty  for  the 
occasion.  —  October  20.  A  slight  shock  of  an 
earthquake  occurred  at  half-past  eleven  o’clock 
a.  m. —  October  25.  Water  let  into  the  lower 
basin  at  the  Chestnut  Hill  Reservoir.  —  Novem¬ 
ber  4.  Resolve  and  order  for  the  removal 
of  Scollay’s  building  signed.  —  November  24. 
The  Police  collected  and  distributed  $1,109.60 
among  poor  persons  who  were  overlooked  by 
others.  —  December.  26.  The  new  Police  Tele¬ 
graph,  connecting  the  several  Police  Stations 
with  the  central  office,  completed.  —  December 
30.  The  resolve  and  order  for  erecting  a  sol- 


106/ 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  rOLICE. 

diers’  and  sailors’  monument  on  the  Common 
approved. 

1871.  "William  Gaston,  Major;  Edward  H. 
Savage,  Chief  of  Police.  —  January  1.  The 
Police  force  numbers  500  men.  —  January  13. 
Police  Belief  Association  organised.  —  January 
14.  In  consequence  of  the  scarcity  and  unneces¬ 
sary  waste  of  water,  the  whole  of  the  Police  force 
appointed  Water  Inspectors.  —  February  2. 
Annual  Police  Ball  at  Music  Hall.  —  April  16. 
Policemen  at  East  Boston  break  up  a  prize-fight 
at  Breed’s  Island.  —  May  1.  The  licensing  of 
dogs  transferred  from  the  City  Clerk  to  the  Chief 
of  Police.  —  May  12.  Great  meeting  of  the 
Grand  Army  of  the  Republic.  —  May  18.  The 
removal  of  Scollay’s  building  completed. —  May 
bO.  Decoration  Day.  —  May  31.  Training  day 
called  for  a  detail  of  100  Police  on  the  Common. 
—  June  5.  Little  Raven  and  five  other  Kansas 
Indians  visit  City  Hall.  —  June  13.  The  laying 
of  the  corner-stone  of  Odd  Fellows’  Hall,  corner 
of  Tremont  and  Berkeley  Streets,  called  out  a 
detail  of  330  Police.  —  June  17.  Reception  of 
the  Kew  York  9th  Regiment,  commanded  by 
Col.  James  Fisk,  Jr.;  a  detail  of  100  Police. — 
June  18.  (Sunday.)  Col.  Fisk’s  regiment  holds 
Religious  Services  on  Boston  Common.  —  June 
23.  The  School  Regiment  drilled  on  the  Common ; 
100  Police  on  duty.  —  July  4.  Usual  celebration. 
Police  force  increased  for  the  day  by  the  appoint¬ 
ment  of  250  Specials.  —  July  20.  Slight  shock 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE.  106  g 

of  an  earthquake  at  12.55  o’clock  in  the  morning. 
—  August  26.  A  terrible  accident  occurred  at 
Revere  by  a  collision  of  steam  cars;  32  persons 
killed,  and  many  others  injured.  Police  sent  to 
the  scene,  and  the  wounded  removed  from  the 
Eastern  Depot  to  the  Hospitals.  —  September  18. 
The  corner-stone  of  the  Soldiers’  Monument  laid 
on  the  Common;  a  great  gathering,  both  of  the 
military  and  civilians ;  300  Police  detailed  for  the 
duty.  —  October  4.  The  drought  made  it  neces¬ 
sary  to  pump  water  from  Lake  Cochituate  for 
the  Reservoir.  —  October  14.  Deputy  Chief 
Quinn  went  to  Chicago  to  carry  contributions 
from  the  Boston  Police  to  the  Chicago  Police, 
who  suffered  by  the  great  fire. —  October  16. 
The  corner-stone  of  the  new  Post-Office  on 
Milk,  Devonshire,  and  Water  Streets,  laid  in 
presence  of  President  Grant,  many  distinguished 
persons,  and  a  great  concourse  of  people;  300 
Police  detailed  for  the  occasion.  —  October 
24.  Deep  sensation  caused  by  the  murder  of 
Kate  Leehan  on  Brookline  Avenue.  —  November 
29.  —  Thanksgiving  Day.  The  Police  collected 
and  distributed  to  the  poor  about  one  thousand 
dollars.  —  December  7.  The  Grand  Duke  Alexis 
of  Russia  arrived  in  Boston. 

1872.  William  Gaston,  Mayor;  Edward  H. 
Savage,  Chief  of  Police.  —  January  1.  The  Po¬ 
lice  force  numbers  468  men.  —  January  25.  The 
Third  Annual  Assembly  of  the  Police  Department 
at  Music  Hall.  —  May  30.  Decoration  Day.  — 


106  £ 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


June  3.  Detail  of  100  Police  for  Artillery  Elec¬ 
tion.  —  June  17.  Commencement  of  the  World’s 
Musical  Festival.  The  regular  Police  force  had 
been  increased  to  532  men,  with  the  addition 
of  250  Specials  appointed  for  the  occasion.  At 
8  o’clock  A.  M.  the  whole  regular  force  was 
marshalled  in  Pemberton  Square  and  marched 
to  the  Coliseum  grounds,  where  250  men  were 
drawn  out  for  duty  for  the  twenty  days’  ceremo¬ 
nies,  the  remainder  returning  to  their  respective 
Stations,  with  the  aid  of  the  Specials  to  cover 
the  beats  throughout  the  city.  The  attendance 
at  the  Festival  was  said  to  be  from  30,000  to 
70,000  people  daily,  many  days  numbering 
nearly  or  quite  100,000  persons  crowded  together 
in  the  streets;  yet  during  that  exciting,  pro¬ 
tracted  period  there  were  no  burglaries,  no  store 
robberies,  few  street  larcenies,  very  few  accidents, 
and  no  disturbance  of  the  peace.  —  June  26. 
Grand  Festival  Ball ;  President  Grant  and  50,000 
people  present.  —  July  4.  The  combined  attrac¬ 
tions  of  the  Holiday  and  the  Festival ,  with  the 
thermometer  at  100  degrees,  caused  a  serious 
test  of  the  efficiency  and  power  of  endurance  of 
the  Boston  Police.  Ex-Mayor  John  P.  Bigelow 
died,  aged  nearly  75  years. — July  7.  The  closing 
concert  of  the  World’s  Musical  Festival.  —  July 
22.  Vessels  running  quarantine  taken  back  by  the 
Police. — August  25.  Irish  citizens’  concert  at 
the  Coliseum.  —  September  5.  Colored  citizens’ 
convention  at  Faneuil  Hall.  —  September  17. 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


106  £ 


Firemen’s  Parade ;  100  Police  detailed  for  the 
occasion.  —  September  22.  “  Father  Burke  ”  lec¬ 
tured  at  the  Coliseum;  30,000  people;  100  Po¬ 
lice.  —  September  25.  The  prevalence  of  the 
small-pox  begins  to  create  an  alarm.  —  October 
11.  Great  torchlight  procession;  detail  of  50 
Police. —  October  13.  Mr.  Charles  Lane,  liv¬ 
ing  on  Hancock  Street,  Ward  16,  was  shot  and 
killed  in  his  own  doorway  by  some  unknown 
assassin. — October  25.  Mr.  Gilmore’s  Ball  at 
the  Coliseum.  — October  26.  The  horse  disease 
commenced  in  Boston,  making  it  necessary  to 
propel  fire  engines,  horse  cars,  and  other  vehi¬ 
cles  through  the  streets  with  human  muscle. — 
October  30.  A  great  torchlight  procession. — 
November  6.  The  body  of  Abijah  Ellis,  cut  up 
and  packed  in  two  barrels,  was  found  floating  in 
Charles  River. — November  9.  At  7.15  P.  M.  the 
Great  Fire  broke  out  at  the  corner  of  Summer 
and  Kingston  Streets,  which  swept  off  nearly  all 
the  buildings  between  Summer,  Washington, 
Milk  and  Broad  Streets,  destroying  nearly  $100,- 
000,000  of  property  and  many  lives.  Firemen 
were  called  from  other  cities;  buildings  were 
blown  up  to  stop  the  progress  of  the  flames;  the 
military  were  called  out  for  a  Police  relief;  the 
gas  was  shut  otf,  leaving  the  city  in  darkness 
two  nights;  and  Boston  presented  a  scene  never 
to  be  forgotten.  —  November  10.  Post-Office 
moved  to  Faneuil  Hall.  —  December  26.  The 


106  h 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


small-pox  hospital  at  Pine  Island  destroyed  by 
fire. 

1873.  Henry  Lillie  Pierce,  Mayor;  Edward 
H.  Savage,  Chief  of  Police.  —  January  1.  The 
Police  force  numbers  520  men.  —  January  14. 
Mayor  Pierce  nominates,  and  the  City  Council 
confirm,  a  Board  of  Health  of  three  men.  — 
January  15.  The  Board  of  Health  established  a 
small-pox  hospital  at  the  old  almshouse  in  Rox- 
bury.  —  February  2.  Post-Office  opened  in  the 
Old  South  Meeting-house,  the  building  hav¬ 
ing  been  obtained  for  two  years.  —  February  9. 
Public  Library  first  opened  on  Sunday.  —  Feb - 
ruary  20.  Fourth  annual  Police  Ball  at  the 
Music  Hall. — Febi'uary  27.  Serious  fire  and 
loss  of  life  at  the  corner  of  Blackstone  and 
Hanover  Streets.  —  March  6.  Louis  Wag¬ 
ner,  charged  with  murder  at  the  Isle  of  Shoals, 
arrested  in  North  Street  by  the  Boston  Po¬ 
lice.  —  March  17.  A  show  up  of  burglars 
and  burglars’  tools  at  the  Central  Police  Office. 
—  March  21.  James  McElhanney  hanged  in 
Charles-street  jail  for  the  murder  of  his  wife.  — 
April  5.  420  passengers  from  the  wrecked 

steamer  Atlantic  arrive  at  Faneuil  Hall,  en  route 
for  New  York.  —  May  1.  The  Police  force  in¬ 
creased  to  575  men.  —  May  11.  Barnum’s 
great  ten  days’  show  commenced  at  the  Coliseum 
grounds.  —  May  12.  An  independent  line  of 
telegraph  wire,  connecting  each  Station  House 
separately  to  the  Central  Police  Office,  com- 


BOSTON  WATCH  AND  POLICE. 


106  l 


pleted.  —  May  13.  The  system  of  a  mounted 
patrol  inaugurated  by  placing  one  mounted 
Police  Officer  on  the  Milldam  road.  —  May  30. 
Decoration  Day.  At  8.40  o’clock  A.  M.,  a  fire 
broke  out  on  Washington,  near  Essex  Street, 
destroying  nearly  $200,000  worth  of  property, 
calling  for  the  aid  of  firemen  out  of  the  city,  and 
the  services  of  400  Police.  —  June  23.  School 
Regiment  drilled  on  the  Common;  detail  of  80 
Police.  —  June  29.  Amended  Police  Rules  and 
Regulations  furnished  for  the  Department.  — 
July  4.  —  For  the  first  time  in  many  years, 
Boston  had  no  fireworks,  no  balloon  ascension, 
and  no  Special  Police  for  the  day;  but  with 
ample  arrangements  made  for  the  occasion,  and 
the  city  as  full  as  usual  of  people  to  enjoy  them. 
As  the  City  Government  had  prudently  and 
wisely  designed,  the  national  anniversary  was 
celebrated  in  a  quiet  and  rational  manner. 


RECOLLECTIONS 


OF  A 


BOSTON  POLICE  OFFICEE. 


DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  BEEHIVE. 

As  I  was  passing  over  my  District  one  morning, 
I  came  up  to  where  two  old  gentlemen  were  stand¬ 
ing  engaged  in  earnest  conversation,  their  attention 
apparently  attracted  to  some  object  over  the  way. 

As  I  was  about  to  pass  them  unnoticed,  I  said, 
“  Good  morning,  gentlemen ;  happy  to  meet  you 
in  your  morning  walk.” 

“  That  you,  Geevus”  said  one  of  them,  turning  ; 
and  scanning  me  from  head  to  foot.  “  Well,  sir, 
the  likes  of  you,  with  your  long  blue  coat  and 
bright  B.  P.  Big  Poker  buttons  would  have  been 
a  rare  sight  in  those  days.” 

“  What  days  do  you  refer  to  ?  ”  said  I. 

“  Why,  the  days  of  the  olden  time  ;  days  of  the 
Tinjpot  and  the  Beehive ,”  said  he  ;  66  days  when 
citizens  sometimes  found  it  necessary  to  take  the 


108 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


execution  of  the  laws  into  their  own  hands,  and 
pretty  summary  work  they  made  of  it  too.” 

“Well,  sir,”  said  I,  “  what  about  the  Beehive  V ’ 

(Shifting  his  cane  from  one  hand  to  the  other, 
and  dropping  a  big  quid  of  the  weed  into  the 
empty  hand  and  deliberately  throwing  his  old  sol¬ 
dier  upon  the  pavement.) 

“Do  you  know,”  said  he,  “  that  the  street  where 
we  now  stand  was  once  called  Black  Horse  Lane ?” 
It  was  called  so,  from  the  Black  Horse  Tavern,  that 
once  stood  down  there  by  the  corner,  where  you 
see  the  figure  with  a  big  nose  standing  over  the 
apothecary’s  door.  The  tavern  had  the  figure  of 
a  black  horse  for  a  sign ;  it  was  long  before  my 
remembrance,  but  when  I  was  a  boy  an  old  darkie 
who  lived  over  by  the  water-mill  used  to  tell  me 
much  about  it.  He  called  it  Blackus  Inn ,  but  that 
was  old  Ebony’s  abbreviation.  This  Inn  was  once 
noted  as  a  place  of  refuge  for  soldiers  who  desert¬ 
ed  from  Burgoyne’s  army  as  it  was  about  leaving 
Winter  Hill,  near  the  close  of  the  Revolution. 
There  was  another  tavern,  with  a  like  sign,  up  in 
Back  Street  afterwards,  and  one  up  at  old  No.  17 
Union  Street,  not  many  years  since,  but  this  was 
the  original  one.  In  early  times,  the  North  End 
was  the  “  court  end  ”  of  the  town,  and  it  was  pro¬ 
verbial  for  its  numerous  places  of  entertainment. 
Ann  Street  was  then  Fore  Street ,  and  Hanover  was 
Middle  Street ,  and  Salem  Street  from  the  mill 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


109 


bridge  to  the  corner  down  here  was  Back  Street , 
and  from  Prince  Street  up  by  Christ’s  Church  and 
the  old  Governor  Phipps  estate  to  Charter  Street 
was  called  Green  Lane . 

“  Since  my  remembrance,  the  millpond  extended 
from  North  Margin  to  South  Margin  streets,  and 
from  the  causeway  to  Haymarket  Square.  Canal 
boats  passed  through  where  Biackstone  Street  now 
lies,  at  high  water  coming  out  into  the  Bay  near 
where  the  foot  of  Quincy  Market  now  stands,  and 
there  were  bridges  across  the  canal  at  Hanover 
and  at  Ann  streets,  and  there  was  a  water  mill  a 
little  north  of  Plano ver  and  Biackstone  streets,  and 
another  near  the  foot  of  Endicott  Street.  Black 
Horse  Lane  was  afterwards  widened  and  called 
Princess  Street,  in  honor  of  some  female  woman  of 
*  the  English  Royal  family.  Boston  men  were  loyal 
men  until  the  mother  country  by  continued  acts  of 
oppression  drove  them  to  madness  and  desperation.” 

“  That  is  very  true,”  said  I ;  “  but  tell  us  about 
the  Beehive.” 

“  O,  yes,”  said  he ;  “  I  had  forgotten.  Well, 
sir,  do  you  see  that  narrow  three-story  house  just 
over  the  way  there?  it  was  once  painted  lead 
color;  it  is  now  No.  60,  I  believe.  Well,  on  that 
ground  stood  the  Beehive.” 

“  Why  was  that  name  given  it?  ”  said  I. 

“Well,  I  will  tell  you,”  said  he ;  “  you  see  it  was 

then  a  two-story  wooden  dwelling  with  a  sharp 

10 


110 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


roof,  the  end  to  the  street ;  had  little  windows, 
and  externally  it  looked  very  much  like  a  beehive, 
and  then  it  was  chuck  full  of  cosey  little  cells,  and 
old  inarm  Cooper  was  the  queen  bee.  She  had 
two  pretty  daughters,  and  plenty  of  boarders  of  the 
female  persuasion,  and  the  popping  in  and  out  at 
the  hive  on  an  evening  wrould  remind  you  of  the 
genuine  article  on  a  June  day.  Do  you  think  the 
place  rightly  named  ?  Well,  the  hive  finally  be¬ 
came  so  notorious  and  so  noisy  that  respectable 
people  would  put  up  with  it  no  longer,  and  so  one 
night  the  truckmen,  —  yes,  sir,  the  truckmen ,  them 
were  the  fellows  when  any  game  was  on  foot  in 
those  days.  Well,  they  might  not  all  have  been 
truckmen,  perhaps  a  sprinkling  of  mechanics  and 
laborers,  and  now  and  then  a  sailor  boy ,  just  home 
from  sea,”  said  he,  giving  his  companion  a  severe 
punch  in  the  side  with  his  elbow.  6  Humph!1 
said  the  other  giving  a  pull  at  the  hip  of  his  pan¬ 
taloons. 

“Well,”  continued  the  speaker,  “just  as  we 
were  knocking  off  work  word  came  —  let  me  see 
-—yes,  it  was  on  the^  22d  day  of  July,.  1825,  about 
nine  o’clock  in/the  evening,  there  came  down  from 
Hanover  Street  way,  about  two  hundred  of  the 
most  comical-looking  fellows  that  you  ever  laid 
eyes  on.  They  had  pitchforks,  and  poles,  and 
bars,  and  axes,  and  conch  shells,  and  gourd  shells, 
and  tin  horns,  and  tin  pans,  and  were  dressed  in 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


Ill 


all  kinds  of  costume,  and  their  faces  were  blacker 
than  the  bottom  of  a  tar  kettle.  Well,  just  as  they 
arrived  at  the  beehive,  the  band  struck  up  —  such 
music  —  and  the  work  began,  and  such  work,  — 
why  sir,  you  could  not  hear  yourself  think,  and  in 
less  than  ten  minutes  there  was  not  a  piece  of  door 
or  window  or  furniture  left  of  the  beehive  so  large 
as  a  Truck  Pin ,  and  such  a  stampede  by  the  in¬ 
mates  of  the  hive.  Don’t  you  remember,”  said  he, 
(turning  to  his  friend  and  lowering  his  voice,) 
“  don’t  you  remember  seeing  old  marm  Cooper 
scudding  through  School  alley  under  full  sail  at  a 
rate  that  would  have  done  credit  to  a  privateers¬ 
man  ]  ” 

“Exactly”  said  his  friend,  (at  the  same  time  giv¬ 
ing  an  unlucky  cur  who  was  passing  a  most  ungen¬ 
erous  punch  with  his  cane  that  sent  him  yelping 
down  street.) 

“Well,”  continued  the  old  gentleman,  turning  to 
me  again,  “  you  see  the  wind  was  fresh  northwest, 
and  some  dozen  feather  beds  had  been  turned  in¬ 
side  out  from  the  windows,  and  the  atmosphere 
was  about  as  full  of  feathers  as  you  ever  see  it  of 
snow-flakes  in  a  squall.  To  add  to  the  scene,  some 
one  had  got  up  a  prodigious  smoke  by  burning 
brimstone,  feathers,  and  wool  rags.  I  tell  you,  sir, 
it  was  a  scene  for  a  lifetime.  Why,  you  would 
have  thought  all  the  feathered  imps  from  the 
regions  of  darkness  had  shed  their  coats  on  this 


112 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


devoted  ground,  and  were  escaping  with  their 
dear  lives  to  every  lane,  passage,  and  gateway  in 
the  neighborhood  (after  a  pause) ;  and  so  the 
swarm  was  taken  up,”  said  he. 

“ But  where  were  the  police  all  this  time]  ”  said  I. 
“  Police,”  said  he,  “  did  n’t  I  just  tell  you  that 
the  likes  of  you  would  have  been  a  rarity  in  those 
days,  and  did  n’t  I  tell  you  that  the  citizens  some¬ 
times  were  obliged  to  take  the  laws  into  their  own 
hands  ?  Pity  the  practice  has  gone  quite  out  of 
use.  Don’t  you  think,  sir,  that  Justice,  who  is 
seated  in  the  big  County  House  up  town,  some¬ 
times  gets  a  little  dirt  in  his  eye  ?  ” 

“  But  where  were  the  city  authorities?  ”  said  I. 

“  City  authorities,”  said  he ;  “  why,  Boston  had 
been  a  city  but  a  short  time  then,  and  if  they  knew 
anything  at  all  about  the  matter,  they  took  good 
care  not  to  come  there  till  the  trouble  was  all 

a>. 

over;  and  beside,  them  truckmen  done  up  that  job 
about  as  quick  as  you  could  say  Jack  Robinson, 
and  then  they  were  off.” 

“  Well,”  said  I,  “it  must  have  been  quick  work 
and  a  comical  sight  indeed.  But  (and  looking  at 
him  a  little  slyly),  who  do  you  suppose  were  the 
truckmen  engaged  in  this  riot ?  ” 

“  Riot  —  none  of  your  business ,  you  young  sauce - 
boa said  he  ;  and  taking  a  fresh  quid  the  two 
walked  leisurely  up  the  street,  leaving  me  to  re¬ 
sume  my  duties. 


GABRIEL  AND  fflS  HORN. 


Among  the  many  exciting  events  that  marked  the 
progress  of  the  year  1854  in  Boston,  was  the  ad¬ 
vent  of  Gabriel  and  his  horn.  I  do  not  mean  him 
of  olden  time,  spoken  of  on  the  sacred  page,  but  a 
poor,  illiterate,  half-breed  Scotchman,  with  more 
impudence  than  brains,  who  with  a  three-cornered 
hat  and  cockade  on  his  head,  and  an  old  brass  horn 
in  his  bosom,  took  advantage  of  the  political  excite¬ 
ment  then  existing,  and  travelled  about  the  city 
and  suburbs  from  place  to  place  tooting  his  horn, 
collecting  crowds  in  the  streets,  delivering  what  he 
called  Political  Lectures,  and  passing  round  the  hat 
for  contributions. 

His  lectures  generally  consisted  of  a  repetition  of 
a  few  ill-chosen  words,  interspersed  with  some  un¬ 
meaning  slang,  relative  to  some  European  institu¬ 
tions  that  no  one  ever  read  of,  and  the  abuse  of  some 
sport-loving  youngster  who  had  pelted  him  with 
rotten  eggs  at  a  former  lecture. 

But  the  horn — Gabriel’s  horn  was  the  great  cen¬ 
tre  of  attraction,  and  appeared  to  occupy  as  promi- 
10* 


114 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


nent  a  place  in  tlie  hearts  of  his  admirers,  as  did 
that  which  adorned  the  altar  in  King  Solomon’s 
Temple.  Without  that  horn  Gabriel  would  have 
been  powerless,  but  with  it  he  seemed  to  possess 
the  power  of  a  Socrates,  and  indeed  the  notes  from 
that  horn  were  the  best  arguments  I  ever  heard  him 
advance. 

So  potent  was  its  fame,  that  even  a  sound  from  a 
conch  shell  made  by  some  roguish  boy,  was  often 
mistaken  for  the  genuine  article,  and  would  fill 
the  streets  with  a  gaping  multitude  in  a  few 
moments. 

Gabriel  usually  closed  his  harangue  by  notifying 
his  audience  of  the  time  and  place  of  his  next  lec¬ 
ture,  which  saved  advertising,  and  when  the  time 
arrived  another  stampede  would  occur.  Wherever 
these  lectures  were  holden,  it  became  necessary  to 
detail  a  large  force  of  police  to  preserve  the  peace, 
and  rough  times  we  often  had  of  it.  Indeed,  it 
really  seemed  that  everybody  was  bent  on  a  row, 
and  perfectly  infatuated  with  humbug. 

I  well  recollect  one  of  these  Gabriel  incidents 
that  occurred  on  Sunday  afternoon,  December  17,  of 
this  year. 

Gabriel  was  to  lecture  at  Chelsea,  and  for  once 
he  had  gone  down  Hanover  Street  quietly  and  un¬ 
noticed  ;  but  on  arriving  at  the  ferry,  as  he  stepped 
on  board  the  boat,  he  must  blow  his  horn.  This 
was  a  signal  for  a  crowd,  and  it  was  soon  there, 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


115 


but  Gabriel  liad  gone,  and  no  one  seemed  to  know 
whither.  Many  of  the  boys  collected,  were  deeply 
impressed  with  the  spirit  of  the  times,  and  a  disturb¬ 
ance  commencing,  the  police  were  under  the  neces¬ 
sity  of  making  several  arrests,  and  took  one  man  to 
the  Station  House.  They  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  house  with  the  man,  but  the  crowd  supposing 
Gabriel  had  been  arrested,  were  very  indignant, 
and  followed  up,  surrounded  the  house,  and  began 
to  threaten,  and  call  for  Gabriel,  hi  no  very  pacific 
or  flattering  terms. 

After  the  prisoner  had  been  locked  up,  I  went 
out  upon  the  steps  and  waved  my  hand  to  be  heard, 
which  was  granted. 

I  then  told  the  crowd  that  only  an  intoxicated 
man  had  been  arrested,  he  would  be  kindly  treated 
and  probably  discharged  when  sober.  That  Gabriel 
had  gone  to  Chelsea  to  deliver  a  lecture  agreeably  to 
appointment  made  by  him  in  Union  Street,  last  Sun¬ 
day,  as  many  who  now  heard  me  would  well  recol¬ 
lect  ;  that  they  would  now  find  him  speaking  in  his 
winning  strains  on  Hospital  Hill  —  God  bless  him ! 

This  turned  the  tide  of  affairs,  and  the  crowd 
began  to  cry  out,  “  That ’s  so  !  ”  “  All  right,  old 
boy !  ”  44  Give  us  a  speech  yourself,  Capt  n !  ”  Hur¬ 
rah  for"  Station  One!”  66  Hurrah  for  Gabriel!” 
44  Hurrah  for  the  horn!  ”  44  All  hands  to  Hospital 
Hill !  ”  and  a  general  stampede  for  Chelsea  Ferry 
closed  the  exhibition. 


116 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


I  wished,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  that  Ga¬ 
briel,  his  horn,  and  all  his  followers  were  with  the 
host  of  Pharaoh  in  the  bottom  of  the  Red  Sea;  bnt 
recollecting  that  the  truth  is  not  to  be  spoken  at  all 
times,  I  held  my  peace. 

Gabriel  finally  became  such  a  travelling  nuisance, 
that  the  more  sober  portion  of  the  people  (if  there 
were  any  at  that  time,)  began  to  be  ashamed  to  be 
seen  following  in  his  wake,  and  the  sport  for  others 
becoming  stale,  his  collections  would  not  pay  his 
lodging  bills,  and  he  left  his  field  of  labor,  in  dis¬ 
gust,  for  the  more  sunny  clime  of  Saint  Domingo. 

He  was  not  there  long,  however,  before  he  was 
arrested  as  a  general  disturber  of  the  peace,  and 
sentenced  to  the  penitentiary  for  three  years,  and 
died  in  prison  soon  after. 


GUESSWORK. 


A  portly,  intelligent-looking  man  came  into  the 
Office  one  morning  and  inquired  for  the  Captain. 
I  said  I  was  that  celebrated  individual,  and  inquired 
what  could  be  done  for  him.  He  leaned  over  the 
railing  that  separated  us,  and  stood  twirling  a  busi¬ 
ness  card  between  his  thumb  and  finger  for  some 
time,  apparently  in  a  brown  study.  “  Well,”  said 
he,  finally,  straightening  up,  “I  came  in  to  see  you 
on  a  little  matter  of  business,  but  on  reflection,  I 
recon  I  wont  trouble  you  with  it  now,”  and  he  turned 
to  go  away.  I  had  been  watching  him  closely  in 
his  revery,  which  I  saw  he  noticed,  and  it  seemed 
to  strengthen  his  resolution  in  not  doing  his  errand. 
He  seemed  to  feel  that  his  appearance  indicated  a 
recent  debauch,  which  he  did  not  care  to  have  no¬ 
ticed.  As  he  was  about  leaving  I  said,  “  Look 
here,  stranger,  are  you  a  Western  man  ?  He  turned 
and  looked  me  square  in  the  face  a  moment,  and 
replied,  “  Well,  I  recon  I  am.  But  why  do  you  ask 
that?” 

“  Nothing  in  particular,”  said  I,  “  only  your  ap- 


118  POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 

* 

pearance  indicates  that.  And  not  only  so,  there  is 
something  on  your  mind  that  perplexes  you  some¬ 
what  ;  and  if  so,  I  should  be  most  happy  to  render 
you  some  service.” 

After  looking  at  me  a  moment,  he  walked  back, 
came  inside  the  railing,  and  took  a  seat  by  my 
side. 

44  Well,  sir,”  said  he,  quite  frankly,  44 1  take  you 
to  be  a  Yankee ,  and  I  am  told  the  Yankees  are 
some  on  guessing.  Now  what  have  you  to  say  in 
my  case  ?  ” 

44  Sir,”  said  I,  we  are  no  fortune-tellers  here,  only 
policemen ;  but  as  to  the  matter  of  Yankee  guess¬ 
ing,  as  you  call  it,  I  am  willing  to  try  in  your  case, 
if  you  desire  it,  on  one  condition,  —  that  you  tell 
me  when  I  guess  wrong'1 

44  Very  well,”  said  he,  44  go  ahead.” 

I  reached  and  took  his  hand  and  looked  it  over 
carefully,  —  and  a  44  huge  paw  ”  it  was. 

44  Well,”  said  I,  after  considering  a  while,  44 1 
guess  you  have  done  some  hard  work  in  your  day,  — 
some  farming,  —  lumbering  some.  That  is  an 
honest-looking  hand,  and  I  doubt  not  it  is  a  true 
representative  of  the  heart.  And  you  have  not 
been  confined  to  farming  and  lumbering  altogether; 
you  could  make  a  good  stump  speech,  or  draft  a 
set  of  resolutions,  if  necessity  required.” 

I  stole  a  glance  at  his  face  and  saw  that  he  was 
‘  quite  satisfied  thus  far,  and  ready  for  more. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


119 


“'Well, I  guess  you  have  a  very  pretty, blue-eyed 
wife, far  away  in  a  new  country,  near  a  wide,  smooth 
stream,  with  four,  perhaps  five,  little  responsibil¬ 
ities.” 

“  Stop,”  said  he,  with  some  earnestness,  and  pull¬ 
ing  away  his  hand,  “  do  you  know  me,  sir  ?  ” 

“  Never  heard  of  you  in  my  life,”  said  I ;  “  you 
was  to  tell  me  if  I  guessed  wrong.” 

“  Well,  go  ahead,”  said  he,  settling  back  in  his 
chan. 

After  quizzing  him  in  the  face  awhile,  “  I  guess” 
said  I,  “  that  you  are  little  acquainted  in  Boston,  are 
here  on  business,  have  been  a  little  incautious,  fell 
in  with  some  jolly  companions,  took  a  drop,  per¬ 
haps,  that  altogether,  quite  overcame  you.  I  think, 
also  you  may  have  lost  money,  perhaps  gold,  large 
pieces  I  think,  and  I  think  you  have  lost  some  kind 
of  a  bundle.” 

At  this, he  sprang  from  his  chan  like  a  wild  man. 

“  Good  God,  sir!”  said  he,  “I  will  stand  this 
no  longer.  Do  you  know  me,  sir,  —  do  you  know 
my  name  and  business  ?  How  came  you  by  all 
this  knowledge,  sir?” 

“  Knowledge,”  said  I,  quite  innocently,  “  I  have 
no  knowledge  of  you,  certainly.  You  set  me  to 
guessing ,  and  I  have  only  done  according  to  the 
best  of  my  ability.  You  have  only  to  tell  me  when 
[  guess  wrong .  Don’t  be  offended  ;  just  come  back 
and  sit  down,  and  see  if  you  can  tell  it  any  better 


120 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


yourself;  and  if  your  case  comes  in  my  line,  I 
shall  be  most  happy  to  aid  you.” 

“  Well,”  said  he,  “  I  don’t  know  who  the  deuse 
you  are,  nor  exactly  what  is  in  your  line ,  whether 
policeman  or  fortune-teller ;  but  your  proceedings 
with  me  seem  very  much  like  the  latter,  and  pretty 
well  posted  at  that.  Now,  sir,  please  just  tell  me 
how  you  came  in  possession  of  all  these  facts.” 

“Facts”  said  I;  “  then  you  say  I  have  been 
telling  you  facts ,  do  you?  Well,  I  only  called  it 
guesswork.  But  you  know  better  than  I,  and  we 
wont  dispute  the  point.  But  you  come  and  sit 
down  here  and  tell  me  your  case,  —  I  want  some¬ 
thing  more  tangible  than  guesswork,  —  and  let  us 
see  what  can  be  done.” 

“  I  might  as  well,”  said  he,  “  although  you  ap¬ 
pear  to  know  nearly  as  much  about  it  now  as  I  do. 
At  any  rate,  you  guess  well ;  and  if  you  can  guess 
me  out  of  this  scrape  as  well  as  you  have  guessed 
me  into  it,  I  shall  be  forever  obliged  to  you.” 

He  then  told  me  his  story. 

He  was  a  resident  of  Minnesota;  owned  a  large 
tract  of  timber  land  on  one  of  the  rivers  where  the 
country  was  too  level  for  mill  privileges  by  water 
power,  and  he  had  set  up  several  steam  mills, 
which  were  a  source  of  great  profit.  He  came  to 
Boston  to  purchase  machinery  for  another  mill ; 
had  closed  his  business,  and  was  to  leave  by  the 
half  past  five  o’clock  train  for  the  West.  He  had 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


121 


an  hour  to  spare,  —  took  a  stroll  about  town, — 
brought  up  in  North  Street,  —  went  into  a  place  to 
take  a  drink,  —  a  young  chap  asked  him  to  treat, 
—  he  drank  once,  again ;  after  which  he  forgot 
what  happened.  This  morning  he  found  himself 
alone  in  a  strange  garret.  He  examined  the  room 
carefully,  and  found  no  one.  His  clothes  were 
left,  but  the  pockets  were  empty.  He  made  his 
way  out  as  best  he  could,  and  found  his  way  to  the 
Station  House.  He  had  lost  all  his  money,  consist¬ 
ing  of  seven  twenty-dollar  gold-pieces,  and  a  bun¬ 
dle  containing  a  valuable  steam  gauge.  He  had 
seen  the  elephant,  (rather  too  close  a  view,  he 
thought,)  was  many  hundred  miles  from  home, 
among  strangers,  and  without  a  dollar  in  his 
pocket. 

After  getting  all  the  information  he  could  give 
me,  I  sent  him  into  a  saloon  to  get  some  breakfast, 
and  set  the  hoys  to  work.  The  officers  soon  learned 
that  the  chap  who  had  done  the  shake  had  left  for 
New  Bedford.  A  telegraph  dispatch  got  there 
first:  the  chap  was  arrested  on  his  arrival  at  New 
Bedford,  and  an  officer  followed  in  the  next  train 
and  brought  him  back  with  one  hundred  and 
twenty  dollars  of  the  money.  He  was  taken  be¬ 
fore  the  court,  and  sentenced  to  two  years’  service 
in  the  House  of  Correction  ;  and  with  what  money 
was  recovered  and  the  steam  gauge,  the  stranger 
took  his  leave  for  his  home  in  the  West,  a  wiser, 
if  not  a  better  man. 


122 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


After  arming  home,  he  wrote  me  a  polite  note, 
thanking  me  for  what  was  done  for  him,  and  took 
occasion  to  say  that  if  my  guessing  propensities 
were  as  accurate  in  relation  to  how  he  felt  as  they 
were  on  what  he  lost ,  I  would  surely  sympathize 
with  him  in  his  folly  ;  but  he  was  all  right  now, 
and  he  had  seen  enough  of  Yankeedom  to  guess 
that  he  would  be  in  no  hurry  to  again  look  up  the 
Boston  elephant. 

Should  any  curiosity  arise  relative  to  the  guess¬ 
work ,  let  me  frankly  say  that  I  make  no  pretence 
to  supernatural  knowledge  myself,  nor  believe  it 
in  the  possession  of  others,  and  shall  not  attempt 
to  throw  any  mystery  about  the  affair. 

My  guessing  was  very  simple  when  explained, 
as  most  mysteries  are. 

Early  that  morning  an  officer  had  brought  in 
the  steam  gauge  from  a  rum  hole  in  N-orth  Street, 
which  the  keeper  said  was  left  by  a  countryman 
who  came  into  his  place  the  previous  evening. 
He  had  any  quantity  of  twenty-dollar  gold-pieces, 
treated  generously,  and  finally  went  off  with 
a  chap  of  the  town  well  known  to  the  officers. 
The  steam  gauge  had  the  maker’s  name  on  it,  —  a 
well-known  firm  in  the  city.  We  knew,  of  course, 
that  the  man  would  lose  his  money  in  such  hands, 
and  as  soon  as  the  store  of  the  firm  was  open,  I 
repaired  there  to  learn  what  I  could  of  the  owner 
of  the  gauge  ;  and  from  one  of  the  firm  I  learned 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


123 


the  man’s  name,  residence,  business,  and  much 
more  that  I  did  not  put  into  the  guesswork. 
While  he  was  leaning  over  the  rail  twirling  the 
card  between  his  thumb  and  finger,  I  saw  it  was 
the  card  of  that  same  steam-gauge  company,  and 
with  the  description  I  had  from  one  of  the  firm,  I 
was  sure  of  my  man. 

That  man  learned  the  science  of  shaking ,  but  in 
all  probability,  Yankee  guessing  to  him  is  still  a 
mystery. 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  COUNTRYMEN. 


As  a  general  rule,  the  administration  of  justice  is 
best  accomplished  when  each  branch  of  the  Executive 
confines  itself  to  its  own  legitimate  duties.  The 
Boston  Police  are  appointed  for  the  special  pur¬ 
pose  of  preserving  the  peace  of  the  city,  executing 
its  ordinances,  and  also  the  criminal  laws  of  the 
Commonwealth  within  their  jurisdiction ;  and  to 
guard  against  their  interference  in  civil  matters, 
and  keep  them  in  their  proper  sphere,  it  became 
necessary  to  prescribe  their  duties  by  the  Statutes, 
giving  them  “  the  power ,  of  constables  in  criminal  cases 
only”  and  also  by  the  ordinance,  “  They  shall  not 
render  assistance  in  civil  cases”  Yet,  notwithstand¬ 
ing  these  special  provisions  in  both  the  statute  and 
the  ordinance ,  but  very  few  of  even  our  own  cit¬ 
izens  seem  to  be  aware  of  the  fact.  The  conse¬ 
quence  is,  demands  are  made  daily  for  the  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  Police  to  do  all  kinds  of  work,  much  of 
which  they  are  not  permitted  to  do  by  the  rules  of 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


125 


the  Department,  and  not  unfrequently  that  which 
no  man  can  do  lawfully. 

The  fact  that  the  services  of  the  Police  are  paid 

for  by  the  city,  no  doubt  adds  to  the  number  of  de¬ 
mands. 

An  officer  is  fortunate  enough  to  catch  a  burglar, 
and  carries  him  before  the  Police  Court.  He  is 
bound  over  for  trial.  For  the  sum  of  twenty-five  dol¬ 
lars  paid  by  the  burglar’s  friends,  Mr.  Brown  bails 
the  rogue  in  the  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars,  takes 
him  out  of  the  hands  of  the  officers  of  the  law, 
and  turns  him  loose  to  again  prey  upon  the  com¬ 
munity.  When  the  case  comes  up  for  trial,  the 
rogue  is  not  in  court,  and  he  and  his  bail  are  de¬ 
faulted.  If  justice  is  done,  Mr.  Brown  gets  sued 
foi  the  amount  of  bail.  This  sometimes  happens. 
And  Mr.  Brown,  if  his  bail  happens  not  to  be  straw, 
immediately  hunts  up  the  officer  who  was  smart 
enough  to  catch  the  rogue  at  first,  and  orders  him 
to  New  York  or  Nova  Scotia,  after  his  protege  ;  and 
if  told  by  the  officer  that  he  has  no  power  in  the 
matter,  he  flies  in  a  passion  and  uses  his  influence 
to  get  the  officer  discharged.  Another  has  a  tenant 
who  don’t  pay  rent.  The  landlord  forthwith  repairs 
to  the  Station  House  and  demands  an  officer  to  pro¬ 
ceed  -without  precept  or  judgment  to  put  the  family 
out  at  once.  If  told  that  it  would  be  a  gross  viola¬ 
tion  of  law  for  any  officer,  and  that  the  police  were 

not  qualified  to  serve  a  precept  in  such  cases  if  he  had 

11* 


126 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


one,  the  officer  is  strongly  reminded  that  an  appoint¬ 
ing  day  is  soon  coming  that  will  fill  the  ranks  of  the~ 
police  with  men  that  will  do  then'  duty.  . 

Instances  of  the  like  nature  are  of  very  frequent 
occurrence  ;  but  they  are  quite  bearable  in  compari¬ 
son  with  some  others  that  sometimes  occur  with  our 
own  citizens.  The  first  are  excusable,  because  those 
making  such  demands,  perhaps,  have  not  the  oppor¬ 
tunity  of  knowing  all  the  rules  of  law ;  but  when 
members  of  the  legal  profession,  and  those  officers 
Whose  duties  are  not  restricted  to  criminal  matters, 
make  demands  even  more  at  variance  with  law  and 
common  sense,  an  excuse  is  not  so  easily  found.  I 
have  been  ordered  by  a  constable  to  go  into  a  store 
and  remove  a  large  amount  of  groceries  on  which 
he  had  made  an  attachment ;  and  I  once  underwent 
a  most  searching  examination  by  a  66  limb  of  the  laic  ” 
before  the  Police  Committee  because  I  refused  to 
remove  a  constable’s  keeper  from  a  store  of  the  law¬ 
yer’s  client. 

Yet  those  cases,  too,  are  sufferable  when  we  rec¬ 
ollect  that  we  are  well  paid  for  being  abused,  and 
partly  by  the  very  men  who  abuse  us. 

^  But  the  most  annoying  and  provoking  demands 
made  on  the  Police,  are  from  persons  wdio  do  not 
belong  to  the  city,  often  requiring  the  most  un¬ 
reasonable  duties,  and  in  a  manner  that  would  indi¬ 
cate  the  belief  that  the  Police  were  a  horde  of  slaves, 
kept  for  their  own  particular  benefit.  I  do  not 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


127 


mean  to  say  that  this  is  the  general  rule  of  all  conn- 
lymen,  ut  I  do  say  that  such  cases  often  happen. 

Officers  are  sometimes  sent  for  to  go  many  miles 
ut  of  town  to  perform  some  service  which  no  man 
can  lawfully  do,  with  the  apparent  expectation  that 
he  will  go  and  “ find  himself. ”  I  have  been  called 
from  my  bed  at  the  dead  hour-  of  night  by  a  country- 
man,  apparently  sober,  to  go  and  hunt  up  his  worth¬ 
less  dog,  who  perhaps,  disgusted  with  his  master’s 
peregrinations  and  company,  had  either  left  for 
ome  or  followed  off  some  other  night  wanderer  by 
mistake.  And  I  have  known  a  countryman  hang 
round  the  Police  Office  for  hours,  importuning  for 
an  officer  to  go  to  a  bar-room,  and  demand  for  him 
a  re  urn  o  three  cents,  the  bar-keeper  having  taken 
ix  cents  for  a  drink  of  raw  gin,  the  countryman 
eclarmg it  should  be  but  three.  “Not  that  he  cared 
for  the  three  cents, -no,  not  he;  but  it  was  the 

purple  of  the  thing,  and  it  was  the  duty  of  the 
1  olice  to  see  him  righted.” 

The  meanest  man  I  ever  did  a  job  for  was  him 
for  whom  I  recovered  a  stolen  team.  The  team 
consisted  of  a  tine  horse,  buggy,  harness,  robe, 
whip,  halter,  and  foot-mat,  all  worth  at  least  five 
hundred  dollars,  which  was  stolen  in  a  country 
town  and  brought  to  the  city.  Before  hearing  of 
the  theft,  I  had  secured  the  buggy  as  it  was  being 
put  aboard  the  Bangor  steamer,  believing  it  to  be 
stolen ;  afterwards  the  horse,  harness,  and  other 


128 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


property  was  all  recovered, —  all  but  the  mat,  val¬ 
ued  probably  at  fifty  cents,  which  I  was  not  lucky 
enough  to  get.  I  had  laid  out  upon  the  wharf  two 
whole  nights,  after  doing  duty  on  the  day,  and  before 
I  could  reach  all  the  property  was  obliged  to  pay 
something  over  seven  dollars  from  my  own  pocket 
for  assistance.  The  thief  was  convicted  and  sen¬ 
tenced  to  State’s  Prison,  and  the  property  safely  de¬ 
livered  to  the  owner,  —  all  but  the  mat.  I  thought 
he  would  refund  me  the  money  I  had  paid  out  to  re  - 
cover  his  property, — I  expected  nothing  more ;  but 
this  he  would  not  do,  and  finally  told  me,  in  so  many 
words,  that  “if  you  had  done  your  duty,  I  should 
have  my  mat  also.” 

My  recollections  of  that  countryman  are  quite 
fresh,  although  it  is  now  twelve  years  since  the  cir¬ 
cumstance  occurred.  He  keeps  a  livery  stable  yet, 
not  many  miles  from  Boston.  I  will  not  call  his 
name,  for  I  do  not  write  to  gratify  personal  feeling; 
but  I  do  think  if  that  soul  ever  gets  into  heaven,  it 
will  be  because  it  is  so  small  it  can  creep  in  unob¬ 
served. 


As  a  slight  illustration  of  country  opinion  of  police 
duties  in  Boston,  and  of  the  progress  of  the  school¬ 
master,  I  give  the  following  true  copy  of  a  letter 
which  was  received  at  the  office  of  Chief  of  Police, 
except  the  name  of  the  party  and  his  place  of 
residence. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


129 


BUNKUMVILLE,  JUNE  9,  1862. 

“  To  the  C/teqfe  of  Polease” :  — 

“  Ie  sende  this  dispache  toe  you  toe  Areste  A  yunge 
man  bye  the  name  of  Nathan  Stokes  of  this  place,  hea  is 
A  yunge  man  aboute  20  yers  old  an  had  a  blacke  frocke 
Cote  an  Cloth  cap.  hea  is  a  Sayler  bye  perfesion  ande 
George  Stokes  is  his  unkle  an  you  ken  in  quier  of  him. 
an  if  you  doe  ketch  im  cape  im  til  Ie  ken  get  a  permit  toe 
taek  im  her  for  tryal  your  in  hast, 

please  Sende  as  Sone  as  you  ken  an  Cape  im  til  you  her 
from  mea.M 


JONATHAN  JENKINS 


FIGHT  WITH  JOHN  WELCH. 


While  on  patrol  duty  in  the  summer  of  1854, 1 
was  passing  down  Hanover  Street  early  one  even¬ 
ing,  and  when  near  Hanover  Avenue  I  was  met  by 
some  apparently  living  thing,  for  my  life  I  could 
hardly  tell  what ;  but  on  removing  a  piece  of  old 
bedquilt,  I  there  found  the  head  of  a  Mrs.  Welch 
among  the  tattered  remnants  of  her  clothing,  what 
little  she  had,  all  of  which  was  completely  sat¬ 
urated  with  blood.  A  more  pitiful  object  my  eyes 
never  saw,  and  the  poor  creature  was  more  dead 
than  alive.  Knowing  the  habits  of  the  family,  I 
comprehended  the  state  of  affairs  at  once.  She 
had  again  been  most  cruelly  beaten  by  her  brute 
of  a  husband  John ,  who  had  already  served  two 
terms  in  the  House  of  Correction  for  the  same 
offence. 

She  said  she  had  barely  escaped  with  her  life, 
and  begged  me  to  run  to  the  house  just  down  the 
avenue,  for  John  was*  beating  the  children,  two 
interesting  little  girls,  who  had  often  suffered  at 


JOHN  H  BUfTURD  S  LITH  4-90  WASH*  ST  BOSTON 

JOHN  WELCH. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


131 


the  hands  of  a  cruel  father  while  begging  of  him 
not  to  kill  their  mother. 

The  house  being  but  a  few  steps  off,  I  was  soon 
at  the  door  ;  but  all  was  still  there.  Welch  lived 
on  the  second  floor,  over  a  colored  family,  and  I 
immediately  groped  my  way,  in  the  dark,  up  the 
winding  stairway  to  Welch’s  room.  I  had  been 
there  before  under  similar  circumstances,  thus  far. 
On  entering  the  room,  which  was  dimly  lighted  by 
an  old  oil  lamp,  I  cast  my  eyes  over  the  apart¬ 
ment.  The  only  furniture  consisted  of  an  apology 
for  a  bed,  an  old  table,  and  two  or  three  broken 
chairs,  and  some  old  torn  garments  scattered  about 
the  floor  ;  but  no  one  seemed  to  be  present.  On 
approaching  the  bed,  however,  I  there  discovered 
the  veritable  John  himself,  but  apparently  sound 
asleep.  On  speaking  to  him  he  roused  up,  and 
wanted  to  know  what  I  wanted.  I  said,  to  see 
him,  and  asked  him  to  get  up.  He  got  out  and 
sat  upon  the  side  of  the  bed,  having  on  his  usual 
clothing  except  his  shoes,  but  pretended  to  be 
entirely  unaware  that  any  difficulty  had  occurred. 
I  asked  him  what  caused  the  appearance  of  the 
room,  and  where  his  wife  was.  He  said  it  was 
none  of  my  d — nd  business  ;  that  he  was  in  his 
own  house,  and  if  I  valued  my  life  much,  I  had 
better  leave  soon. 

Welch  was  a  powerful  man,  in  the  prime  of  life, 
and  weighing  nearly  two  hundred  pounds,  and  not 


132 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


so  drunk  as  I  had  expected  to  find  him.  I  had 
measured  strength  with  him  before,  and  although 
he  was  much  stronger  than  myself,  I  could  move 
much  quicker  than  he,  and  I  did  not  fear  him, 
although  I  had  been  told  that  he  had  said  he 
would  never  be  again  arrested  by  me  alive.  I  did 
not  doubt  but  a  calm,  decided  course  would  subdue 
him. 

I  finally  told  him  calmly  that  I  was  sorry  he  had  , 
been  having  trouble  again  ;  that  his  wife  was  out 
in  the  street  badly  hurt,  and  I  wanted  him  to  put 
on  his  shoes  and  go  out  with  me  and  see  to  her. 
He  finally  said  he  supposed  he  might  as  well  go, 
and  asked  me  to  reach  him  his  shoes,  just  under 
the  foot  of  the  bed,  near  where  I  was  standing.  I 
stooped  down  for  the  shoes,  not  taking  my  eye  off 
him,  when,  as  quick  as  thought,  he  drew  from  be¬ 
neath  the  head  of  the  bed  a  round  stick  of  wood 
about  four  feet  long  and  perhaps  an  inch  and  a 
half  in  diameter,  and  sprang  at  me  with  the  fury 
of  a  madman.  I  straightened  up,  and  jumped 
backwards  just  in  time  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  a 
blow  that  would  have  split  my  head  from  crown  to 
shoulder,  the  sharp  end  of  his  club  coming  down 
in  front  of  me,  and  near  enough  to  tear  open  my 
vest.  The  second  blow,  with  a  “  G — d  d — mn 
you,”  quickly  followed,  my  back  now  being  so 
near  the  side  of  the  room  that  I  was  obliged  to 
jump  sideways  ;  but  he  was  too  near,  and  I  caught 


/ 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS.  133 

the  blow  slantingly  on  my  left  arm.  It  took  cloth¬ 
ing,  hide  and  all:  Before  he  had  time  to  recover 
for  the  third  blow,  my  club,  which  I  drew  from  a 
pocket  under  my  left  arm  with  my  right  hand,  met 
his  head ,  and  he  fell  senseless  to  the  floor.  For  a 
moment  I  was  relieved;  but  the  next  came  the 
fearful  thought,  “  I  have  killed  him !  ”  I  had  struck 
him  with  a  heavy  lignum-vitae  billy,  with  all  my 
power.  I  had  hit  him  on  the  head;  the  blow 
must  have  broken  his  skull.  I  had  only  acted  in 
self-defence ;  his  next  blow  would  have  laid  me 
lifeless  at  his  feet.  lie  had  missed  his  aim,  and  I, 
to  save  myself,  had  killed  him.  But  I  had  killed 
a  man  in  that  ill-lighted  chamber,  and  no  mortal 
eye  was  there  to  witness  my  extremity.  My  God  ! 
I  would  have  given  worlds  to  have  exchanged 
places  with  him  that  moment.  My  club  dropped 
from  my  hands,  and  I  stood  aghast. 

But  it  was  too  late:  the  deed  was  done.  I 

f 

knelt  down  over  my  victim,  and  laid  my  trembling 
hand  first  on  his  temple  and  then  on  his  heart. 
Gracious  Heaven!  he  was  not  dead;  the  pulsa¬ 
tions  of  his  heart  were  as  firm  and  as  regular  as 
my  own.  Was  it  so,  —  was  he  not  dead?  I  felt 
again  and  again,  and  then  with  some  of  the  rags 
that  he  had  torn  from  the  person  of  his  wife,  I 
wiped  the  volume  of  blood  which  had  saturated  his 
thick  curly  ham,  and  vainly  searched  for  the  hole 

in  his  skull  which  I  supposed  my  club  had  made ; 

12 


134 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


but  it  was  not  there.  I  then  wiped  the  blood  from 
his  face,  and  soon  found  where  my  blow  had  taken 
effect ;  it  was  on  the  point  of  the  left  cheek  bone ; 
the  flesh  was  mangled,  but  the  blow  being  a  down¬ 
ward  one  no  bone  was  broken.  He  was  still  alive, 
and  to  my  unspeakable  joy  not  fatally  injured. 

The  reaction  of  feeling  was  almost  too  much  for 
me.  I  could  have  hugged  the  dirty  rascal,  so 
overjoyed  was  I  to  think  I  had  not  killed  him.  I 
washed  the  blood  from  his  face  as  well  as  I  could 
with  some  dirty  water  I  found  in  a  pail  in  one 
corner,  and  laid  him  on  the  bed,  where  he  soon 
began  to  revive.  I  picked  up  a  part  of  my  club, 
which,  although  a  very  solid  one,  was  now  in  two 
pieces,  and  put  it  in  my  pocket. 

Welch  finally  recovered,  so  as  to  sit  up,  and  said 
it  was  no  use ;  he  would  go  with  me  peaceably 
now,  and  would  never  attempt  to  fight  me  again. 
We  got  ready  and  started  to  go  down  stairs ;  he 
pretended  to  be  weak,  and  leaned  on  me  for  sup¬ 
port.  We  passed  through  the  entry  to  the  head 
of  the  stairs,  and  as  I  stepped  down  on  the  first 
stair,  leaving  him  somewhat  over  me,  he  sprang 
for  my  throat  with  both  hands,  with  a  power  I 
little  thought  he  possessed.  I  knocked  up  his 
hand  a  little  as  he  grabbed  for  me,  so  that  he  only 
got  hold  of  my  collar  and  a  part  of  my  throat,  and 
we  both  went  tumbling  to  the  bottom  of  the  stairs 
together.  As  we  reached  the  bottom  he  broke  his 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


135 


hold,  and  springing  for  my  life,  I  cleared  myself 
from  him  and  leaped  through  the  open  outside 
door  into  the  yard,  well  knowing  that  he  was  an 
overmatch  for  me,  and  would  certainly  kill  me  in 
close  quarters,  but  still  feeling  that  I  was  his  equal 
while  I  could  keep  him  at  arms’  length.  But  I 
had  no  time  to  lose,  for  he  was  upon  me  in  a 
moment.  As  he  neared  me  with  an  uplifted  arm,  I 
drew  what  I  had  left  of  my  club,  and  again  wielded 
it  with  all  the  power  I  possessed.  The  sharp  edge 
of  the  broken  club  hit  his  arm,  and  it  fell  useless 
by  his  side.  This  time  no  head  or  cheek-bone 
was  injured,  but  both  bones  of  his  arm  just  above 
the  wrist  were  broken^ 

My  fight  with  John  Welch  was  ended.  I  took 
him  to  jail,  where  the  bones  were  set  and  proper 
care  taken  of  him ;  and  when  he  was  sufficiently 
recovered,  the  court  awarded  him  two  years  in  the 
House  of  Correction  for  cruelty  to  his  wife. 

That  portion  of  the  club  that  did  me  such 
faithful  service  may  now  be  seen  in  my  cabinet  of 
Police  relics  at  my  house.  I  have  no  doubt  it 
saved  my  life  in  the  fight  with  John  Welch ;  but 
never  shall  I  forget  the  awful  sensation  I  expe¬ 
rienced  when  I  thought  I  had  killed  him. 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE. 


During  the  fall  of  1856,  a  train  of  circumstances 
came  under  my  notice  that  were  calculated  not  only 
to  reach  the  deepest  sympathies  of  the  heart,  but 
they  most  strikingly  illustrate  the  fact  that  circum¬ 
stances  apparently  trivial  in  themselves,  are  often 
of  the  most  vital  importance  as  they  are  interwoven 
in  the  great  web  of  human  events,  and  that  circum¬ 
stantial  evidence,  in  some  cases,  may  be  even  more 
reliable  and  decisive  than  direct  testimony. 

In  October  of  this  year,  the  habitation  of  a  highly 
respectable  family  at  the  north  part  of  Boston  was 
made  desolate  by  the  death  of  two  beautiful  chil¬ 
dren,  the  only  surviving  offspring  of  the  heart- 
stricken  parents,  and  their  bodies  were  borne  far 
away  to  be  buried  in  a  little  green  spot  on  the 
south  shore  of  “  the  deep  blue  sea,”  the  place  of 
nativity  of  the  father. 

A  few  weeks  after  these  sad  ceremonies,  the 
father,  having  prepared  some  little  tombstones, 
again  took  passage  on  the  steamboat  for  the  purpose 
of  placing  them  to  mark  the  spot  where  these 
loved  ones  lay.  *  He  had  already  nearly  reached  his 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


137 


point  of  destination,  and  leaving  the  steamer  with 
his  burden  in  a  skiff,  made  for  the  shore  ;  but  before 
reaching  land  the  frail  bark  upset,  and  the  husband 
and  father  there  found  a  watery  grave. 

The  body  was  soon  recovered,  and  the  sad  intelli¬ 
gence  conveyed  to  the  childless,  heart-broken  widow 
at  home ;  and  she  immediately  repaired  to  this  scene 
of  renewed  anguish,  leaving  her  home  in  charge  of 
several  friends,  most  of  whom  had  long  been  inmates 
of  the  family. 

After  paying  the  last  sad  tnoute  ef  respect  to 
those  so  near  and  dear,  the  widow  retimed  to  her 
desolate  home  to  find  that,  during  M#:  absence,  her 
house  had  been  robbed  of  some  fh‘s  aundred  dollars 
in  money,  the  savings  of  her  late  husband’s  many 
hard  days’  toil,  and  all  the  available  funds  left  her 
in  her  lonely  and  forlorn  condition. 

Information  of  the  robbery  was  immediately  com¬ 
municated  to  me  at  the  Station  House,  and  with  a 
deep  sympathy  and  all  the  energy  I  possessed,  I  at 
once  entered  on  an  investigation. 

On  visiting  the  house  with  one  of  my  officers,  I 
learned  that  the  money  had  been  taken  from  an 
inside  drawer  of  a  desk  or  secretary  standing  in  the 
sitting-room*  and  consisted  of  bankbills,  silver,  and 
several  pieces  of  gold  of  different  value. 

The  lid  of  the  desk  on  the  outside  had  been  un¬ 
locked  by  the  robber,  probably  with  the  key  belong¬ 
ing  to  the  desk,  hut  the  inside  drawer  had  been 

12* 


138 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


forced.  On  inquiry,  I  found  the  key  to  the  outside 
had  been  kept  on  a  shelf  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
secretary,  and  another  key  was  lying  by  the  side  of 
it.  I  proceeded  carefully,  so  as  to  give  the  persons 
.  around  me  no  idea  of  my  thoughts ;  but  I  soon 
learned  that  the  other  key  wound  the  clock,  and 
the  clock  required  winding  every  twenty-four  hours. 
Any  one  using  that  clock  key  would  naturally 
notice  the  desk  key ;  no  stranger  would  find  either. 

Who  wound  the  clock?  The  widow  always 
when  at  home,  the  servant-girl  in  her  absence. 
But  the  servant-girl  was  low  of  stature ;  she  could 
not  reach  the't^ock,  and  had  used  a  chair.  She 
wound  it  the  last*  thing  before  going  to  bed,  and  on 
one  occasion,  when  her  mistress  was  last  absent, 
she  had  stepped  into  the  chair  without  the  key,  and 
asked  one  of  the  gentlemen  boarders  to  hand  her 
the  key  from  the  secretary.  The  girl  herself  seemed 
to  dislike  to  be  questioned,  but  I  could  detect  no 
mark  of  guilt  on  her. 

Who  were  the  boarders  in  the  house  ?  I  asked 
many  questions  about  each,  and  finally  drew  out, 
unnoticed,  that  the  young  man  who  handed  the 
clock  key  to  the  servant-girl  was  a  painter,  that  had 
been  a  boarder  some  time ;  that  he  worked  by  the 
week,  very  steadily,  as  was  supposed ;  that  he  was 
in  arrears  for  board,  but  had  paid  up  since  the 
widow  returned  from  the  funeral  of  her  husband.  In 
passing  through  the  rooms  of  the  boarders,  I  learned 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


139 


that  this  young  man  was  not  at  work  to-day,  for  I 
saw  his  working-clothes  in  his  chamber,  although 
they  told  me  he  was  at  work.  I  then  left  the  house 
for  the  purpose  of  making  outside  inquiries  about 
the  young  painter.  On  visiting  his  employer,  I 
found  the  young  man  received  but  seven  dollars  a 
week  when  he  worked,  which  was  but  part  of  the 
time  ;  that  he  had  neither  worked  nor  received  pay 
for  the  last  three  weeks ;  that  he  frequented  bil¬ 
liard  rooms,  and  was  sometimes  seen  in  bad  com¬ 
pany.  The  next  object  was  to  see  the  young  man 
himself,  and  in  a  few  hours  he  came  to  the  Station 
House  in  custody  of  one  of  our  officers.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  new  suit  of  clothes  throughout,  had 
some  seventy  dollars  about  his  person,  and  was 
highly  indignant  at  being  invited  to  the  Station 
House. 

On  being  told  that  he  was  suspected  of  the 
robbery,  he  denied  all  knowledge  of  the  affair; 
told  a  plausible  story  of  his  circumstances;  ex¬ 
pressed  great  sympathy  for  the  widow  ;  and  hinted 
at  my  own  responsibility  in  the  course  I  had  taken. 
The  money  he  had  was  unlike  any  that  was  taken. 
I  did  not  know  his  story  to  be  false.  I  had  no 
direct  evidence  of  his  guilt,  but  I  believed  I  should 
yet  find  it,  and  I  locked  him  up. 

We  again  visited  the  house  where  the  robbery 
was  committed,  and  asked  permission  to  look  at 
the  room  where  our  painter  slept.  We  searched 


140 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


every  inch  of  the  room,  furniture,  and  bedding,  hut 
found  nothing.  The  last  article  for  examination 
was  an  old  checked  vest,  that  hung  behind  a  door. 
This  was  the  painter’s  vest,  as  it  plainly  showed 
the  marks  of  his  trade,  (his  room-mate  being  a 
carpenter,)  and  besides  it  was  known  to  be  the  one 
usually  worn  by  the  painter  when  at  work.  In 
one  corner  of  a  pocket  in  this  vest  was  a  small  wad 
of  paper,  a  little  larger  than  a  good-sized  pea.  On 
unfolding  it  carefully,  it  was  apparently  a  torn-off 
corner  of  an  old  letter,  and  on  it  appeared  the 
letters  “  Pro,”  evidently  part  of  a  word  written 
before  the  corner  was  torn  off.  Nor  was  this  all ; 
on  further  inspection,  it  appeared  to  have  been 
wrapped  about  some  round,  hard  substance,  about 
the  size  of  a  iive-cent  piece.  It  seemed  to  be 
worth  preserving ;  and  as  nothing  else  that  gave 
any  light  on  the  subject  was  to  be  found,  we  again 
repaired  to  the  sitting-room  to  further  examine  the 
secretary,  and  the  widow  showed  me  how  the 
money  was  placed  in  the  drawer.  The  bills,  she 
said,  were  laid  lengthwise  in  a  long  pocket-book  ; 
the  pocket-book  was  left,  and  nothing  missing  from 
it  but  the  money.  The  silver  was  in  a  steel  purse  ; 
the  silver  had  been  emptied  from  the  purse  and 
taken,  but  the  purse  was  left.  The  gold  was 
wrapped  up  in  an  old  letter  written  on  a  half  sheet 
of  note  paper ;  the  gold  was  gone,  but  the  letter 
still  remained  in  the  drawer.  I  took  up  the  letter, 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


141 


which  was  much  wabbled  up,  and  on  straightening 
it  out,  found  the  upper  left-hand  corner  torn  off, 
and  asked  the  widow  if  she  recollected  about  it. 
On  reflecting  a  moment  she  said,  yes ;  when  her 
husband  was  putting  away  this  money  she  was 
present,  and  counted  the  gold,  and  did  it  up  in  this 
old  letter  ;  among  the  gold  was  a  dollar  gold-piece, 
and  she  tore  off  a  corner  of  the  letter,  folded  it 
about  the  gold  dollar,  and  wrapped  it  up  in  the 
rest  of  the  letter  with  the  other  gold.  I  drew  out 
my  bit  of  paper  found  in  the  painter’s  pocket,  and 
it  fitted  the  corner  of  the  torn  letter  exactly,  and 
the  letters  44  Pro  ”  on  the  small  piece,  were  fol¬ 
lowed  by  the  letters  “vincetown”  on  the  large  one, 
which  made  the  word  complete  when  the  two  parts 
were  joined.  The  evidence  was  circumstantial, 
but,  with  what  facts  were  before  known,  rather 
conclusive.  All  were  satisfied  that  we  had  discov¬ 
ered  the  thief ;  and  to  me  this  was  not  the  only 
gratification.  The  discovery  would  not  only  place 
the  guilt  where  it  properly  belonged,  but  it  served 
to  remove  a  most  cruel  suspicion  on  the  character 
of  an  innocent  and  unprotected  servant-girl,  that 
might  have  thrown  her  out  of  employment,  and 
marked  her  with  disgrace  for  life. 

We  returned  to  the  Station  House,  and  our  suc¬ 
cess  was  frankly  explained  to  the  prisoner.  He 
was  not  an  old  criminal,  and  when  he  saw  the 
weight  of  evidence  against  him  he  could  bold  out 


f 


142  POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 

no  longer,  but  frankly  confessed  his  guilt.  The 
money  was  nearly  all  recovered,  and  restored  to 
the  widow ;  the  prisoner  was  remanded  to  court, 
but  there  admitted  to  bail.  When  the  day  of  trial 
came,  he  forfeited  his  bonds  by  not  appearing,  and 
I  have  never  seen  him  since. 


t 


WATCHMAN’S  EATTLE. 


The  Watchman’s  Eattle  was  first  provided  for 
the  use  of  the  guardians  of  the  night  long  be¬ 
fore  Boston  was  incorporated  a  city,  and  has  been 
in  constant  use  ever  since.  I  am  informed  by  old 
watchmen  that  the  original  was  quite  similar  to 
that  now  in  use,  although  much  larger.  From 
what  cause  its  peculiar  form  was  conceived,  or  who 
was  its  ingenious  inventor,  the  record  saith  not ; 
but  it  is  believed  to  be  the  only  police  appendage 
that  has  not  undergone  a  variety  of  changes,  and  is 
an  article  seldom  if  ever  found  in  other  cities. 

If  there  is  any  one  thing  that  will  infuse  life  or 
anxiety,  or  energy,  into  the  heart  or  heels  of  a 
policeman,  it  is  the  sound  of  the  watchman’s  rattle 
in  the  night  time.  I  can  hardly  tell  how  or  where 
I  acquired  this  feeling,  but  I  have  never  heard  a 
sound  beating  the  air,  so  fraught  with  a  spirit  of 
trouble  and  need  of  assistance,  as  the  sharp  crack 
of  the  watchman’s  rattle  reverberating  in  the  street 
at  the  dead  hour  of  night.  Its  peculiar  tone  is 
different  from  anything  I  ever  heard,  and  the  sen¬ 
sation  is  as  peculiarly  novel  and  exciting. 


144 


POLICE  RECOLLECTION S. 


On  the  morning  of  the  17th  of  October,  1854, 
a  circumstance  occurred  which  served  to  strengthen 
the  impressions  already  somewhat  acquired  by  the 
exciting  echoes  of  the  rattle.  I  was  walking  alone 
down  Hanover  Street,  on  the  way  from  the  Station 
House  to  my  home,  about  half  past  one  o’clock  on 
the  morning  in  question,  and  when  near  Richmond 
Street  I  heard  the  sharp  crack  of  the  rattle,  which 
seemed  to  be  cut  short  before  it  was  fairly  through. 
That  denoted  hand-to-hand  work,  and  I  well  knew 
that  some  of  my  boys  were  in  trouble.  The  air 
that  morning  was  thick  and  heavy,  and  the  sound 
seemed  to  fill  the  entire  space  around  me  ;  in  fact 
it  seemed  to  come  from  directly  overhead.  I  cast 
a  hasty  glance  up  and  around,  but  discovering 
nothing,  ran  immediately  to  the  corner  of  Rich¬ 
mond  Street.  On  reaching  that  point  my  ear 
again  caught  the  sound  ;  but  still,  I  could  not  fix 
the  direction,  and  thinking  it  most  likely  to  come 
from  North  Street,  I  made  hasty  tracks  in  that 
direction.  As  I  neared  North  Street  there  came 
a  third  alarm,  evidently  in  the  direction  of  Brick 
Alley.  I  hastened  on,  and,  arriving  at  that  point, 
by  the  aid  of  the  lamp-light  on  the  corner,  I  caught 
sight  of  the  object  of  my  search.  It  was  in  a 
man’s  hand,  which  was  thrust  through  a  pane  of 
glass  up  one  flight,  and  was  twirling  out  its  notes 
of  distress  in  quick  succession. 

I  was  not  a  stranger  in  that  locality,  and  soon 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


145 


found  my  way  up  an  outside  stairway  in  the  direc¬ 
tion  of  the  room ;  but  the  door  was  fastened.  I 
stepped  back  a  pace,  and  then  sprang  forward  with 
my  shoulder  against  the  door  with  all  the  force  1 
could  command,  and  the  next  moment  found  my¬ 
self  at  full  length  on  the  broken  door  in  the  entiy. 

I  was  not  long  in  reaching  the  farther  end  of  the 
entry,  where  X  dound  another  door  fastened  also, 
and  which  was  as  soon  opened  the  same  way. 

On  entering  the  room,  I  there  found  one  of  my 
hoys  —  and  as  good  a  fellow  as  ever  broke  bread 
—  in  what  seemed  to  me  to  be  rather  a  tight 
place,  although  in  physical  power  and  courage  he 
was  a  match  for  two  common  men.  He  had  hardly 
a  rag  of  clothing  left  on  his  person,  was  all  covered 
with  blood,  and  had  a  man  nearly  his  own  size  by 
the  throat  with  one  hand,  and  his  bloody  arm 
thrust  through  the  window  springing  his  rattle 
with  the  other,  while  three  others  were  lying  about 
the  floor  in  the  same  room,  under  the  influence  of 
the  muscle  in  his  powerful  arm.  He  had  had  a 
hard  fight  against  fearful  odds,  but  he  was  master 
of  the  field  when  I  arrived.  He  had  followed  a 
burglar  with  his  plunder  into  this  den,  where  he 
was  set  upon  by  these  four  ruffians,  who,  after 
fastening  the  door,  probably  intended  to  make  an 
end  of  him  ;  but  his  strong  arm  and  indomitable 
courage  saved  his  life,  and  he  was  only  calling  for 

help  to  carry  off  his  game. 

13 


146 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


H' 


The  four  men  (three  of  them  brothers)  were 
taken  to  the  Station  House,  and  each  subsequently 
took  a  lesson  of  Captain  Robbins  ;  but  the  inci¬ 
dents  of  that  night  to  me  added  a  new  sensation  to 
the  echoes  of  the  Watchman’s  Rattle. 


\ 


THE  JOKING  LIEUTENANT. 


Tun-loving  policemen  (for  there  are  some  jolly 
fellows  among  the  craft)  have  some  rare  opportu¬ 
nities  for  gratifying  that  passion  among  the  numer¬ 
ous  specimens  of  human  oddities  that  fall  in  their 
way  while  in  discharge  of  their  official  duties,  and, 
like  the  ingenious  sculptor  who  sees  symmetry  and 
beauty  in  the  rough  block,  these  fellows  are  often 
successful  in  drawing  out  a  comical  figure  to  suit 
their  taste,  even  from  the  most  uncouth  specimens 
that  fall  in  their  way. 

I  had  a  little  Lieutenant  with  me  many  years, 
who  was  one  of  those  clever,  innocent  jokers  above 
alluded  to  ;  and  although  he  was  one  of  the  most 
kind-hearted  and  humane  men  I  ever  knew,  yet 
whatever  case  came  up  he  was  bound  to  have  his 
fun  out  of  it,  if  there  was  any  in  it ;  and  many 
were  the  side-aching  jokes  I  have  witnessed  of  his 
getting  up  at  the  expense  of  some  unlucky  wight, 
and  now  and  then  have  I  witnessed  one  at  his  own 
expense,  — for  he  sometimes  found  his  match. 


148 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


One  evening  two  intoxicated  men  were  brought 
into  the  Station  House  by  different  officers  at  about 
the  same  time.  One  was  dead  drunk,  and  on 
searching  his  person,  as  was  the  rule,  a  pint  flask 
about  half  full  of  “  Medford  ”  was  found  in  his 
pocket.  The  other  inebriate,  whose  Christian 
name  was  Morrill,  who  was  well  known  at  the 
house,  and  whose  legs  were  much  more  drunk 
than  his  head,  (which  was  usually  the  case  with 
him  when  he  got  tight,)  stood  hanging  on  to  the 
rail,  silently  witnessing  the  searching  operation. 
When  the  ullage  bottle  of  “  Medford  ”  made  its 
appearance,  the  eye  of  Morrill  rested  thereon  with 
wistful  glances.  No  remark,  however,  escaped  his 
lips,  and  both  he  and  the  stranger  were  assisted  to 
the  Lockup,  to  remain  till  sober  next  morning. 

On  the  next  morning  it  came  the  little  Lieuten¬ 
ant’s  turn  to  let  out  the  prisoners,  and  Morrill  was 
let  out  with  the  rest.  But  there  seemed  to  be 
some  weighty  matter  on  his  mind,  and  he  hung 
about  the  house  after  all  others  had  left. 

As  soon  as  Morrill  had  an  opportunity,  he  took 
the  Lieutenant  one  side,  and  the  following  colloquy 
ensued.  By  the  way,  Morrill  had  an  unfortunate 
impediment  in  his  speech,  but  his  earnest  manner 
made  up  the  deficiency  on  that  point. 

“  Nu-nu-now,  Lieutenant,”  said  Morrill,  “  yu-yu 
you  know  that  I’m  a  real  good  fell-l-feller,  and 
o-only  been  on  a  little  s-p-r-e-e  —  and  I-I’m  going 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


149 


to  have  the  ho-horrors,  sure,  nu-now.  The  h-a-i-r 
of  the  same  dog,  you  know,  Lieutenant.  Yo-you 
just  let  me  have  the  bottle  that  lo-lo-loafer  left  last 
night,  and  I-I ’m  all  right,  sir.  I-I-I  wont  tell, 
p-p-p-pon  honor.” 

“  Upon  your  honor  ^  ”  said  the  Lieutenant,  look¬ 
ing  seriously. 

“  Ton  the  honor  of  a  gentleman,”  said  Morrill, 

without  stuttering  a  syllable. 

“You  just  stop  outside,  so  as  not  to  he  seen  by 
any  of  the  officers,”  said  the  Lieutenant,  “  and  Ill 
meet  you  in  the  entry  in  a  moment.” 

Morrill  readily  went  out.  The  Lieutenant  took 
the  bottle,  emptied  the  contents  into  the  sink,  and 
replaced  about  the  same  quantity  from  a  pail  of 
dirty  water ;  then  stepped  into  the  entry,  where 
Morrill  was  anxiously  waiting,  and  slipped  the 

bottle  into  his  hand,  saying  — 

“  Just  step  over  into  the  alley-way  yonder  and 
take  a  snifter,  and  bring  me  back  the  bottle ;  the 
owner  may  call  for  it.” 

“  All  r-r-r-right,”  said  Morrill,  and  he  made  for 
the  alley-way. 

He  had  no  sooner  reached  his  retreat  than  the 
bottle  was  wrong  end  up,  over  his  mouth,  where  it 
remained  till  completely  empty,  the  simple  liquid 
not  penetrating  the  thick  coating  in  his  mouth  to 
impart  the  taste  till  it  was  too  late  \  but  the  con¬ 
tents  of  the  bottle  seemingly  was  as  much  disgusted 

13* 


150 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


with  its  new  quarters  as  was  Morrill  at  the  joke, 
for  it  came  rushing  back  out  of  his  mouth  with  as 
much  dispatch  as  it  had  entered.  As  soon  as 
Morrill  could  get  breath  he  looked  up,  and  there, 
just  across  the  street,  stood  the  rascally  Lieutenant, 
laughing  as  if  to  split  his  sides.  Morrill  hurled 
the  empty  bottle  at  his  tormentor,  but  luckily  it 
passed  by  and  landed  in  fragments  on  the  sidewalk. 
The  last  seen  of  Morrill,  he  was  wending  his  way 
down  street  with  both  hands  on  his  stomach,  and 
it  was  confidently  asserted  by  his  friends  that  he 
was  not  drunk  again  for  three  weeks. 

One  summer  day  when  the  Lieutenant  was  at  the 
desk,  there  came  in,  arm-in-arm,  a  couple  of  young 
sprouts  apparently  from  upper-tendom,  perfectly 
oblivious  to  all  surrounding  circumstances  and  sub¬ 
jects  save  the  one  idea  of  a  gin  cock-tail .  They 
staggered  up  to  the  rail,  and  with  much  sang  froid 
one  of  them  peremptorily  demanded  the  aforesaid 
luxury. 

“Sh!”  said  the  Lieutenant:  “don’t  talk  so 
loud.  I  see  you  are  posted,  gents  ;  you  know  where 
to  come  for  a  good  thing.  But  we  have  to  be  a 
little  careful,  you  know ;  police  are  on  the  watch. 
We  keep  nothing  at  this  bar,  you  see  ;  but  just  step 
into  the  basement,  where ’t  is  cool,  take  a  private 
box,  and  I  will  accommodate  you  with  the  genuine 
article.  This  way,  gents.  Sh  !  don’t  talk  so  loud. 
This  way,  —  this  way,  gents.” 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


151 


And  down  stairs  they  went,  taking  a  seat  in  the 
first  box  (cell),  with  much  apparent  satisfaction  and 
high  anticipation.  The  Lieutenant  quietly  locked 
the  cell  door,  and  stood  a  little  one  side  to  await 
the  result.  They  sat  silent  some  time.  At  length 
says  one  — 

“  Bill,  —  I  say,  Bill,  aint  that  waiter  — Ate  — 
gone  —  hie  —  a  darned  long  while  \  ” 

“  So  I ’m  thinking,”  said  the  other.  “  Why  don’t 
you  pull  the  bell  ]  ” 

The  first  speaker,  with  some  difficulty,  rose  to 
his  feet  and  began  searching  for  the  bell-rope,  and 
on  coming  to  the  iron-grated  door  he  found  it  fast. 
This  ‘seemed  to  impart  a  new  idea,  and  he  began 
looking  about  the  cell,  till  all  at  once  the  truth 
seemed  to  burst  on  his  benighted  mind,  and  he  sang 
out  — 

“  Bill,  —  Bill;  I  say,  Bill,  we  are  in  the  watch- 
house,  sure  as  hie  !  ” 

Bill  had  careened  over  on  the  bench,  and  was 
fast  forgetting  his  troubles,  and  his  companion  find¬ 
ing  his  egress  essentially  impeded,  soon  availed 
himself  of  the  same  accommodation. 

The  pair  were  discharged  when  sober ;  but  on 
leaving  the  house  one  of  them  dryly  remarked,  that 
he  be  darned  if  he  ever  again  called  at  a  watch-house 
for  refreshments . 

At  some  seasons  of  the  year  we  had  more  appli¬ 
cants  for  lodging  than  we  could  accommodate,  and 


152 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


were  often  obliged  to  send  some  to  other  stations. 
On  these  occasions  the  Lieutenant  used  sometimes 
to  amuse  himself  in  testing  his  customers  a  little, 
and  selecting  those  most  in  need  for  his  own  house. 
When  an  applicant  came  in,  the  Lieutenant  would 
take  his  name  and  description,  and  propound  a  few 
questions :  — 

“  Can  you  work,  Mr.  Smith? ” 

“  Yes,  sir,  if  I  could  get  it  to  do.” 

“  Can  you  saw  wood  ?  ” 

“  Yes,  sir.” 

“  Well,  sir,  it  is  the  rule  at  this  house  for  all 
male  lodgers  to  saw  wood  one  hour,  in  payment 
for  bread  and  cheese  and  lodging.” 

This  would  touch  some  loafers  in  a  tender  spot, 
and  I  have  seen  them  leave  the  Station  House  in 
high  dudgeon.  Others  would  gladly  accept  the 
opportunity,  and  start  off  for  the  basement  with  a 
beam  of  satisfaction  resting  on  their  countenance, 
in  anticipation  of  honestly  rendering  an  equivalent 
for  what  they  were  so  much  in  need.  However, 
none  of  them  ever  sawed  any  wood,  for  the  very 
good  reason  that  there  was  none  to  saw ;  but  such 
always  got  the  best  place  we  had,  and  the  bread 
and  cheese  to  boot. 

But  I  have  said  that  the  Lieutenant  sometimes 
found  his  match,  and  among  others  I  will  note  one 
case. 

As  he  was  letting  out  the  prisoners  one  morning, 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


153 


(by  the  way,  a  favorite  job  with  him,)  among  the 
rest  he  espied  a  young  scapegrace  of  a  boot-black, 
who  had  taken  up  his  quarters  there.  Now  the 
Lieutenant  was  a  perfect  gentleman,  and  withal 
very  neat  in  person  and  dress.  Above  all,  he  ad¬ 
mired  to  see  an  elegant,  genteel  boot,  and  the 
thought  instantly  occurred  to  him  that  Shiner  should 
be  required  to  pay  for  his  lodging. 

“  Hallo,  Shiner,”  said  the  Lieutenant,  what,  you 
here  1  Why,  you  don't  expect  to  come  here  and 
lodge  without  pay,  do  you  1  You  earn  too  much 
money  for  that  now,  my  lad.  You  just  unshoulder 
that  machine  of  yours,  and  give  my  boots  a  tip-top 
shine,  and  we  will  be  even.  That  lodging-house 
over  in  Union  Street  charges  ninepence  ;  ’t  is  but 
half-price  here,  and  better  doings  at  that.  Come, 
come,  Shiner ;  no  loafers  about  here.  Come,  out 
with  your  tools. 

64 1  have  got  no  brush,  sir,”  said  Shiner. 

“  What !  ”  said  the  Lieutenant,  no  brush  1  ” 

“  No,  sir.  I  lost  it  in  a  row  last  night.” 

“Never  mind,”  said  the  Lieutenant;  I  have  a 

nice  one  up  stairs,  so  come  right  up.” 

And  up  they  went.  The  Lieutenant  went  to  his 
desk  and  drew  out  a  nice  clothes-brush,  that  cost 

him  one  dollar  and  a  half. 

“There,”  said  he,  “that  is  none  too  good  to 

brush  my  boots  with.  Now  polish  ’em  up,  my  lad, 
while  I  go  down  and  finish  up  below.” 


154 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


“  All  right,”  said  Shiner ;  and  at  it  he  went. 
When  the  Lieutenant  came  up  he  found  one  boot 
partly  blacked  ;  but  Shiner  or  the  new  brush  were 
never  seen  afterwards. 


JAKE  AND  HIS  BOYS. 


On  the  3d  day  of  April,  1857,  there  came  an 
order  from  the  Central  Police  Office,  to  repair 
thither  at  five  o’clock  precisely.  The  order  was 
promptly  obeyed  ;  and  when  there,  appearances 
indicated  something  up,  as  the  captains  of  several 
other  stations  made  their  appearance  at  the  same 
time  and  place.  Very  little  was  said,  however,  on 
our  arrival,  but  certain  suspicious-looking  slips  of 
paper  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  each  captain, 
with  an  order  to  execute ,  simultaneously ,  at  precisely 
ten  o’clock  that  evening.  The  document  placed  in 

my  hand  said  something  about  No - Street, 

and  although  it  was  not  within  the  limits  of  my 
district,  I  asked  no  questions  ;  for-  as  bad  a  reputa¬ 
tion  as  we  enjoyed  at  the  North  End,  up  town  could 
beat  us  on  faro ,  roulette ,  and  dead  props,  and  give  us 
many  points  the  start. 

Well,  as  if  nothing  had  transpired,  the  arrange¬ 
ments  were  all  completed  at  eight  o’clock,  and 
fourteen  bunkum  boys,  with  brave  hearts  and 
strong  arms,  were  ready  for  the  fray  at  our  station. 


156 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


During  the  evening  the  captain  had  deployed  him¬ 
self  as  a  skirmisher,  and  made^  a  very  valuable 
reconnoissance  ;  he  learned  where  the  main  force 
of  the  enemy  were  encamped,  and  the  exact  local¬ 
ity  of  his  head-quarters  and  his  supply  trains.  We 
also  obtained  information  of  the  exact  position  of 
his  outposts,  and,  very  fortunately,  the  password 
for  the  night. 

The  most  important  move  on  the  onset,  seemed 
to  be  to  secure  the  outside  picket,  who  was  patrol¬ 
ling  up  and  down  the  sidewalk,  ready  to  give  the 
alarm  to  the  garrison  at  the  very  approach  of 
danger. 

However,  the  plan  of  attack  was  matured,  and 
a  few  moments  before  ten ,  the  storming  party  were 
at  their  posts,  at  several  points,  in  near  proximity 
to  the  enemy’s  camp.  As  the  clock  was  chiming 
ten,  two  stalwart  fellows  passed  down  the  sidewalk, 
and  as  they  were  seemingly  about  to  pass  the 
enemy’s  picket,  from  some  unexplained  cause  the 
said  picket  passed  down  with  them,  as  quietly  as  if 
nothing  had  happened,  and  all  three  were  out  of 
sight  round  a  corner,  quicker  than  it  takes  to  tell 
this  part  of  the  story.  The  guard  was  disposed  of, 
and  now  was  the  time  for  action.  Our  whole 
storming  party  were  in  line,  ready  to  mount  the 
enemy’s  breast- works  at  the  word.  “  Rap-rap,” 
came  a  sound  on  the  outside  of  the  outer  door. 
*c  Rap,”  was  the  answer  inside. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


157 


Jake  and  the  boys,”  said  a  voice  outside. 
(Jake  was  the  pass.) 

Open  came  the  door.  “Up  one  flight,”  said 
the  waiter ;  and  up  went  Jake  and  the  boys,  with- 
out  exciting  the  least  suspicion. 

On  ai living  at  the  second  room ,  up  one  flight, 
Jake  beheld  the  coveted  prize,  consisting  of  about 
twenty  personages,  seated  about  a  long  table,  on 
which  appeared  certain  curious  little  boxes,  with 


square  pieces  of  pasteboard,  numberless  little 
pieces  of  ivory,  about  the  size  of  a  half  dollar,  of 
vaiious  colors,  snail-shells,  money,  and  various 
other  articles  too  numerous  to  mention,  which  en¬ 
gaged  the  attention  of  those  seated  at  the  table  so 
closely,  that  the  presence  of  any  new  visitors  was 
not  noticed.  Jake  gave  a  circular  motion  of  his 
arm,  which  seemed  to  be  well  understood  by  his 
boys,  who  immediately  commenced  forming  a  circle 
about  the  board,  and  J ake,  with  one  spring,  landed 
with  both  feet  on  the  very  centre  of  the  table  at 
the  same  time  taking  at  one  grasp  most  of  the 
stakes  ;  and  before,  one  of  the  party  had  time  to 
rise  from  his  chair,  Jake  proclaimed  — 


“Hold  on,— hold  on,  gentlemen;  I  take  this 
trick  in  the  name  of  the  Commonwealth.  Keep 
perfectly  quiet,  gentlemen.  You  shall  all  be  well 
treated,  but  you  will  be  under  the  necessity  of 
accompanying  me  to  the  office  of  the  Chief  of 

Police,  where,  I  presume,  all  things  will  be  made 
satisfactory.” 


14 


158 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


The  crowd  seemed  thunderstruck,  and  most  of 
them  were  shackled  by  the  boys ,  two  together, 
before  they  rose  from  the  table,  so  complete  was 
the  surprise.  In  a  short  time  the  spoils  were 
gathered  up,  and  the  whole  party v  and  property 
were  on  the  way  to  the  Tombs. 

On  arriving  at  our  head-quarters,  the  names  of 
the  captured  party  were  taken,  and,  strange  to  say, 
judging  from  the  names,  they  seemed  to  belong  to 
the  same  family,  or  to  two  families,  at  most,  as 
they  were  nearly  all  Smiths  and  Jones .  Jake, 
however,  took  them  at  their  word,  without  asking 
any  further  questions,  only  remarking  as  he  took 
the  last,  “  Gentlemen  will  please  recollect  the  names 
they  gave  when  they  appear  in  Court  to-morrow  morn¬ 
ing,  to  save  mistakes  .”  One  among  the  number, 
who  was  said  to  hold  some  office  in  a  neighboring 
town,  wrote  his  name  in  the  lining  of  his  hat,  for 
fear  of  an  error. 

However,  it  was  soon  apparent  that  if  we  had 
the  whole  family  of  Smiths  and  Jones  in  custody, 
there  were  kindred  and  friends  outside,  for  several 
gentlemen  soon  appeared  and  offered  to  go  bail  for 
the  whole  party,  some  of  them  holding  real  estate 
in  Boston  valued  at  least  at  fifty  thousand  dollars. 
This  course  seemed  to  have  an  indication  in  the 
premises ;  at  any  rate,  the  commissioner  soon  made 
his  appearance,  and  the  whole  party  were  bailed. 
The  next  day  all  appeared  at  court,  plead  guilty, 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


159 


and  were  fined,  except  the  keeper  of  the  house, 
whose  case  was  sent  up  to  a  higher  court ;  but 
that  party  probably  have  not  forgotten  Jake  and 
his  boys  to  the  present  day. 


RAT  PITS. 


A  rat  pit  is  one  of  those  under-ground  novelties 
occasionally  seen  in  Boston  by  gaslight.  The 
whereabouts,  however,  is  not  always  exactly  known 
to  the  uninitiated,  the  proprietors  generally  not 
choosing  to  either  advertise  or  hang  out  a  shingle 
to  indicate  the  locality  where  the  elephant  is  to  be 

seen :  nor  when  found  is  the  establishment  such  as 

* 

- 

would  be  likely  to  impress  the  mind  with  an  idea 
of  grandeur  or  sublimity ;  at  least,  such  has  been 
the  condition  of  those  that  I  have  seen. 

For  many  years  one  of  these  subterranean  estab¬ 
lishments  was  kept  at  “  North  End,”  which  I  have 
sometimes  been  called  on  to  visit  in  my  official  ca- 
pacity.  The  establishment  consisted  of  a  bar-room 
on  the  first  floor  from  the  street,  not  wide  but  deep, 
the  counter  running  the  whole  length  on  one  side. 
Behind  this  counter  stood  females,  with  vermilion 

cheeks  and  low-necked  dresses,  ready  to  deal  out 

• 

New  York  gin  and  cabbage-leaf  cigars  to  all  who 
had  the  dosh.  At  the  lower  end  of  the  counter,  or 
bar,  stood  a  low-sized,  haggard-looking  cockney, 


yp»  '.ttr -;«••:• 

„•■■■  ■  - 

Pj'yv; ■  , 


Jg*..  '  -  *- 

IlKf 

v'X 


!§§#& 

StSl 


ksfVii  't(C*‘&S>iviX 


l  } 

a  •  ;• .’  | 

-vvflH 

;  if  *95 

1r^^£r'^  ti 

/' 

*1^  . 

SSi 

It 

*Sk 

POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


161 


anxiously  waiting  for  an  order  to  serve  up .  a  raw 
from  a  heap  of  rough  shells  before  him,  —  the  only 
way  of  dressing  the  bivalves  known  here.  A  bench, 
a  few  stools,  and  a  half  dozen  dirty,  uncouth  pic¬ 
tures  about  the  walls,  completed  the  furniture  of 
that  room.  * 

In  passing  through  this  room,  (which  was  gen¬ 
erally  filled  with  pickpockets,  petty  knucks,  fumes 
of  tobacco,  smoke  and  bad  gin,)  at  the  further  end 
you  find  a  trap-door  leading  down  a  flight  of  stabs 
to  the  rat  pit  below. 

The  pit  consists  of  a  board  crib  of  octagon  form 
in  the  centre  of  the  cellar,  about  eight  feet  in  diam¬ 
eter  and  three  and  one  half  feet  high,  tightly  se¬ 
cured  at  the  sides.  On  three  sides  of  the  cellar  are 
rows  of  board  seats,  rising  one  above  the  other,  for 
the  accommodation  of  spectators.  On  the  other 
side,  stands  the  proprietor  and  his  assistant  and  an 
empty  flour  barrel,  only  it  is  half  full  of  live  rats, 
which  are  kept  in  their  prison-house  by  a  wire  net¬ 
ting  over  the  top  of  the  cask.  The  amphitheatre 
is  lighted  with  oil  lamps  or  candles,  with  a  potatoe, 
a  turnip,  or  an  empty  bottle  for  a  candlestick.  Spec¬ 
tators  are  admitted  at  twenty-five  cents  a  head,  and 
take  their  seats,  when  preparations  for  the  even¬ 
ing’s  entertainment  commence.  The  proprietor 
carefully  lifts  the  edge  of  the  wire  netting  over  the 
rat  barrel,  and  with  an  instrument  looking  much 
like  a  pair  c  c  curling  tongs,  he  begins  fishing  out 

14* 


162 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


his  game,  rat  by  rat,  depositing  each  carefully  in¬ 
side  the  pit  until  the  requisite  number  are  pitted. 
The  assistant  has  brought  in  the  dog,  Flora ,  a  fa¬ 
vorite  ratter,  which  he  is  obliged  to  hold  fast  by  the 
nape  of  the  neck,  so  eager  is  she  for  the  fray. 
Then  commences  the  betting,  which  runs  high  or 
low  according  to  the  amount  of  funds  in  the  hands 
of  the  sports. 

“  A  dollar.  She  kills  twenty  rats  in  twelve  sec¬ 
onds  !  ”  “  I  take  that !  ”  “  Half  a  dollar  on  the 
rats !”  “  Don’t  put  in  them  small  rats !  ”  “  Two 
dollars  on  Flora  in  fifteen  seconds  !  ”  “  Done,  at 

fourteen !  ”  “  No,  you  don’t !  ”  “  Don’t  put  in  all 

your  big  rats  at  once  !  ”  “  Five  dollars  on  the  rats 

in  ten  seconds  !  ”  (no  takers.) 

The  betting  all  seems  to  be  well  understood,  but 
it  would  puzzle  an  outsider  to  tell  whether  there 
were  really  any  genuine  bets  or  not. 

The  bets  having  been  arranged,  time  is  called, 
and  Flora  is  dropped  into  the  ring.  Flora  evidently 
understands  that  her  credit  is  at  stake;  but  the 
growling,  and  champing,  and  squealing,  and  scratch¬ 
ing  is  soon  over,  and  the  twenty  rats  he  lifeless  at 
the  feet  of  the  bloodthirsty  Flora,  when  time  is 
again  called,  and  the  bets  decided,  and  all  hands 
go  up  and  liquor.  This  exhibition  is  repeated  sev¬ 
eral  times,  with  different  dogs,  and  lasts  as  long 
as  the  live  rats  hold  out. 

After  the  rat  game  is  up,  the  proprietor  generally 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


163 


gets  up  the  Chuck  game ,  or  something  similar,  for 
an  afterpiece.  The  Chuck  game  is  on  this  wise : 
a  box  some  three  or  four  feet  long  and  one  foot 
square,  closed  at  one  end,  is  placed  in  the  pit,  and 
a  woodchuck  or  a  coon  is  put  in,  who  immediately 
burroughs  in  the  box.  JBose  then  enters  the  ring, 
and  being  a  dog  of  good  blood ,  he  immediately  sets 
about  pulling  Chuck  out  of  his  house ;  and  when 
Bose  crawls  in,  Chuck  gives  him  battle,  and  being 
well  armed,  Bose  generally  gets  a  black  eye  and  a 
bloody  nose  before  his  task  is  accomplished ;  and 
sometimes  he  backs  out  altogether,  and  loses  his 
reputation,  when  some  other  misguided  cur,  greedy 
for  the  prize,  renews  the  attack  on  poor  Chuck  to 
lose  or  win,  as  the  case  may  be.  During  the  fight 
bets  run  high,  and  the  spectators  are  excited 
almost  to  frenzy.  One  who  never  witnessed  one  of 
these  exhibitions  can  have  no  conception  of  the 
scene. 

The  hooting,  cheering,  groaning,  shouting, 
screeching,  swearing,  and  stamping,  accompanied 
with  ten  thousand  grotesque  gestures  of  the  crowd, 
as  seen  and  heard  by  the  dim  light  in  that  subter¬ 
ranean  dungeon,  beggars  description,  and  would 
put  to  blush  a  pandemonium  of  the  first  water. 

After  the  entertainment  of  the  evening  is  over, 
which  is  generally  at  a  late  hour,  —  unless  the 
exhibition  is  wound  up  with  a  fight,  which  is  not 
unfrequent, —  all  hands  adjourn  to  the  bar  to  take 


i 


164 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


a  parting  drink.  Those  too  leg-weary  to  walk, 
lounge  down  in  a  corner,  some  go  to  a  lodging- 
room,  and  others,  who  have  no  place  or  money,  go 
.out  prospecting  to  obtain  means  to  purchase  theii 
grub  and  rum  for  the  next  day. 

The  rat  pit  of  which  I  have  been  speaking  is 
now  closed,  the  proprietor  having  been  stabbed 
through  the  heart  with  a  knife  in  the  hand  of  one 
of  his  own  pupils,  in  a  drtmken  fight  at  a  North 
Street  bar-room. 

I  never  objected  to  the  matter  of  destroying  any 
quantity  of  rats,  hut  the  ceremonies  attending  these 
rat-pit  exhibitions  most  surely  tend  to  cultivate  and 
nurse  the  evils,  vices,  and  crime  to  which  the  pro¬ 
prietors  of  this  pit  fell  a  victim. 

While  this  rat-hole  was  in  its  glory,  I  was  walk¬ 
ing  down  Salem  Street  quite  late  one  evening,  and 
just  before  reaching  Richmond  Street  I  saw  a  man 
dodge  round  the  corner  with  a  bag  on  his  back. 
Supposing  it  some  thief  with  his  booty,  I  put  after 
him  in  double-quick ;  but  on  coming  up  I  recognized 
in  the  supposed  burglar  a  clever  old  darkie,  famil¬ 
iarly  known  as  Jam.  Thinking  I  would  give 
honest  old  Jum  a  little  surprise  as  he  was  quietly 
trudging  along,  I  suddenly  laid  my  hand  on  his 
shoulder  and  sang  out,  “  Now,  old  covey ,  I  have  got 
you!" 

The  poor  fellow  jumped  more  than  twice  his 
length,  and  as  he  came  to  a  stand  he  was  facing 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


165 


me,  one  hand  still  hold  of  the  mouth  of  the  bag  as 
it  lay  on  the  sidewalk. 

“  O-o-o-a-a-a-r-r-r-umph  !  ”  cried  Jum,  as  he 
brought  up,  —  44  O-o-wha-wha-wha  O,  golla  massa, 
what  ye  want  o’  me  \  ”  gazing  at  me  in  perfect 
horror,  each  eye  having  the  appearance  of  the  sur¬ 
face  of  a  tub  of  lard  with  a  boy’s  marble  in  the 
centre. 

44  Ah,  Jum,”  said  I,  44  what  have  you  got  in  that 
bao-  ?  ” 

44  Wha-wha-a-o-o-u-u-o-o-a,  —  oh,  dat  you,  Massa 
Capen  ?  ”  O  Lordy,  Lordy,  Capen,  Ize  tot  Ize  a 
goner !  ” 

44  Well,  well,”  said  I,  44  but  what’s  in  the  bag, 
Jum  ?  ”  n  1 

44  In  de  bag,  —  in  de  bag  !  why,  wh-why,  Massa 
Capen,  dem’s  rats,  —  rats,  dey  is,  —  rats,  noffin 
else,  nofftn  else.  Golly,  —  golly?  Capen,.  t’out  Ize 
a  goner  dat  time,  sure.  Look  out, — look  out  dare, 
Capen ;  dem  fellers  bite  rite  frough  de  bag.”  And 
sure  enough  poor  Jum  had  a  bag  half  full  of  live 
rats. 

After  Jum  had  got  a  little  over  his  scare,  he 
explained  to  me  how  and  where  he  caught  the 
rats.  His  custom  was  to  go  down  to  the  stables  in 
Medford  Street,  where  horses  were  fed  with  oats 
or  meal,  after  dark,  and  with  a  lantern  in  one 
hand,  a  bag  under  his  arm,  and  a  pah  of  curling 
tongs  in  the  other  hand,  J urn  quietly  bags  Ms  game , 


166 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


and  relieves  the  poor  donkeys  of  a  very  trouble¬ 
some  intruder. 

“An’  I  picks  dem  out  pretty  fast,”  said  he. 
“  De  teamsters  all  like  to  see  dis  rat-catcher  come  ; 
de  bosses  gets  more  meal.” 

“  Pretty  good,  Jum,”  said  I,  “  and  you  are  all 
right.  But  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  those 
rats  ;  do  you  drown  them  ?  ” 

“  Drown  em  !  Lord  bress  you,  Capen,  guess  not, 
—  guess  not !  Dis  darkey  get  shillin’  apiece,  — 
shillin’  apiece  for  dem  rats ;  Massa  Barney  give 
shillin’  apiece.  Bats  scarce  now,  —  get  shillin’ 
piece,  sure.” 

“  How  many  have  you,  Jum  ]  ” 

“  Well,  spose  dare  am  t’irty,  —  full  t’irty  rats  in 
dat  bag,  sure,  and  big  ones,  too.” 

“  Thirty  rats  at  a  shilling  apiece,  amount  to  five 
dollars,”  said  I.  “A  pretty  good  evening’s  work. 
Well,  Jum,  you’re  a  good  fellow  ;  good-night,  and 
good  luck.” 

“  T’ank  ye,  t’ank  ye,  Capen,”  said  Jum,  as  he 
swung  the  bag  over  his  shoulder  and  walked  off, 
muttering  to  himself,  “  scare  colored  man  to  deff. 
Tink  dis  chile  tief,  I  spose  !  ” 


DEATH  OP  A  FIREMAN. 


During  my  service  for  the  city  I  have  usually 
been  in  the  habit  of  being  present  at  any  consider¬ 
able  fire  that  might  occur,  especially  in  the  night 
time. 

On  the  evening  of  July  11,  1862,  having  had  a 
hard  day’s  work,  I  was  about  to  retire  to  my  bed 
at  an  early  hour,  when  the  bells  sounded  the  alarm 
of  fire,  in  District  No.  1.  On  throwing  open  the 
window-blinds  of  my  house,  which  was  in  Charter 
Street,  I  saw  that  the  heavens  were  lighted  up  by 
a  fire  apparently  somewhere  near  Haymarket 
Square.  I  immediately  threw  on  an  old  fire  suit, 
and  started  out.  On  reaching  Haymarket,  I  found 
the  Square  and  adjoining  streets  filled  with  people ; 
but  the  fire  was  further  on  up  Sudbury  Street,  and 
consuming  several  wood  buildings  on  the  north 
side  of  Sudbury,  between  Adams  and  Hawkins 
Streets. 

I  elbowed  my  way  through  the  crowd  till  I 
reached  the  fire,  where  I  found  the  people  so 
densely  huddled  together  that  it  was  necessary  to 
shut  off  the  streets. 


168 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


An  additional  force  of  police,  with  ropes,  were 
soon  on  the  ground,  and  the  spectators  were  forced 
back  sufficiently  far  to  give  the  firemen  room  to 
work. 

The  police  had  hardly  accomplished  their  task, 
when  a  chimney  near  the  corner  of  Adams  and 
Sudbury  Street,  losing  the  support  of  surrounding 
timbers,  fell  upon  the  front  wood  walls,  which 
were  still  standing,  and  the  whole  burning  mass 
came  tumbling  into  Sudbury  Street,  burying  sev¬ 
eral  firemen  under  the  rubbish  on  the  very  place 
where  a  large  number  of  spectators  had  so  lately 
stood,  and  where  I  stood  myself  but  a  moment  be¬ 
fore. 

A  number  of  men  rushed  to  the  spot  to  remove 
the  rubbish  and  extricate  the  poor  fellows  that  lay 
buried  beneath.  There  were  seven  in  all,  more  or 
less  injured,  some  being  carried  to  one  place  and 
some  to  another,  to  have  their  wounds  dressed ;  all 
but  one  escaped  without  fatal  injury,  and  he  was 
struck  on  the  temple  with  a  heavy  stick  of  timber, 
that  broke  his  skull,  and  he  died  in  a  few  moments 
after,  we  had  carried  him  into  a  shop  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street.  He  was  a  member  of 
Engine  Company  No.  7,  about  thirty-five  years  of 
age,  a  worthy  man  and  a  good  fireman,  and  had  a 
wife  and  three  small  children  dependent  on  his 
labors  for  support. 

We  procured  a  litter,  and  his  body  was  conveyed 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


169 


to  the  Station  House  in  Court  Square  by  his  sor¬ 
rowing  comrades. 

Then  the  melancholy  tidings  must  be  conveyed 
to  his  family,  —  to  his  poor  wife,  who,  with  her 
little  ones,  were  patiently  waiting  the  father’s 
return  after  the  fire.  But  the  stout  hearts  of  those 
brave  men,  who  could  meet  death  in  any  form 
without  a  tremor,  shrank  from  the  task  of  convey¬ 
ing  the  sad  news  to  the  wife.  No  one  felt  that  he 
could  go.  Finally,  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of 
the  engineers  and  some  of  the  members  of  his 
company,  —  with  his  employer  and  one  other 
gentleman,  I  started  off  on  the  melancholy  errand. 

W e  reached  the  house  about  1 1  o’clock  at  night, 
and  on  entering  found  the  widowed  mother  with 
her  children  drawn  closely  around  her,  as  if 
expecting  some  fearful  visitation.  We  told. our 
sad  tale  as  best  we  could  ;  but  the  scene  there  pre¬ 
sented  I  cannot  describe,  neither  can  I  recall  it  to 
memory  without  a  most  painful  emotion.  Her 
neighbors  and  friends  gathered  about  her,  and 
there  was  no  dry  eye  in  that  sad  group.  The 
w  ife  was  calm,  but  a  picture  of  despair,  and  spoke 
of  her  husband  and  her  children  with  a  depth  of 
feeling  most  touching. 

She  had  a  little  son  about  three  years  old,  a 
bright,  flaxen-haired  child.  She  said  wiien  the 
father  left  the  house  at  seven  o’clock  in  the  morn¬ 
ing,  (he  had  not  been  home  since,)  the  child  foi¬ 
ls 


170 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


lowed  him  out  the  door,  hanging  on  to  his  coat, 
and  crying,  “  Pa  pa,  don’t  go  ;  pa  pa,  don’t  go  !  ”  as 
if  his  little  heart  would  break.  The  circumstance 
was  unusual,  and  produced  a  foreboding  on  the 
mind  of  the  mother  throughout  the  day.  “  Poor 
child,”  said  she,  “  he  will  never  again  meet  the 
smile  nor  enjoy  the  parting  kiss  of  that  fond  father, 
who  now  sleeps  in  death.” 

We  left  the  poor  heart-broken  widow  in  care  of 
a  few  kind  friends,  and  after  rendering  what  fur¬ 
ther  assistance  I  could,  in  caring  for  the  body  of 
the  deceased  fireman,  long  after  midnight  I  found 
myself,  almost  exhausted,  wending  my  way  alone 
through  the  deserted  streets  to  my  own  home,  with 
a  heart  deeply  depressed  at  the  melancholy  scenes 
I  had  so  lately  witnessed,  yet  grateful  to  Him  who 
holdeth  the  lives  of  men  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand 
that  I  was  spared  to  yet  be  the  guardian  of  my  own 
dear  wife  and  child. 


JOHN  H  BUFFORD  S  LITH  490  WASH n  ST.  BOSTON 


'W 


.  ”'■ '  -A-  : 


m&m 

rn^rn 


THE  OUTCAST 


THE  OUTCAST. 


When  I  had  charge  of  Station  One,  on  a  certain 
New  Years  Eve  I  had  taken  a  stroll  over  the  dis¬ 
trict,  and  on  coming  to  the  Station  House  two  of 
the  officers  were  helping  a  poor  creature  into  the 
house  apparently  some  intoxicated,  and  almost  per¬ 
ished  with  cold. 

The  person  was  a  female,  about  twenty  years 
old,  tall  and  slim,  with  deep  black  eyesv  pale,  hag¬ 
gard  countenance,  and  black,  dishevelled  hah. 
She  was  thinly  but  decently  dressed,  and  had  un¬ 
questionably  seen  better  days,  not  a  long  time 
since.  She  was  taken  in  by  the  fire,  wrapped  in 
blankets,  hot  drinks  administered,  and  with  a  little 
attention  soon  revived. 

During  my  Police  life  I  have  had  many  hun¬ 
dreds  of  these  poor  outcasts  in  my  custody,  and 
few,  very  few  have  I  seen  that  had  no  claim  for 
sympathy.  Many  an  hour  have  I  sat  at  the  cell 
door  and  listened  to  their  tales  of  woe,  and  often 
have  I  been  led  to  believe  that  these  poor  crea- 


172 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


tures  are  frequently  more  44  sinned  against  than 
sinning.” 

A  false  step,  perhaps,  at  the  beginning,  and  the 
tide  of  adversity  has  borne  them  onward  and  down¬ 
ward.  Former  friends  forsake  them,  strangers 
ridicule  and  despise  them,  no  helping  hand  is  out¬ 
stretched  to  save,  and  the  victim,  writhing  under  a 
sense  of  its  wrongs,  seeks  refuge  in  the  haunts  of 
dissipation  and  licentiousness,  and  perishes  in  mis¬ 
ery  and  degradation,  uncared  for  and  unknown. 

I  never  could  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  these  tales  of 
woe ;  for  well  do  I  remember  how  near  the  brink 
of  ruin  I  myself  have  been,  when  borne  down  by 
the  weight  of  poverty  and  misfortune. 

Good  treatment,  and  a  few  kind  words,  seemed 
to  give  assurance  to  our  new  guest  that  she  was  in 
the  care  of  those  who  would  do  her  no  harm,  and 
little  by  little  I  drew  out  her  history. 

She  was  of  highly  respectable  family,  in  mod¬ 
erate  circumstances,  residing  in  a  neighboring 
State ;  had  left  her  home  and  come  to  the  city  but 
a  short  time  since,  and  her  brief  history  is  told  in 
the  following  lines.  They  are  supposed  to  be  ad¬ 
dressed  to  her  mother,  the  night  she  spent  at  the 
Station  House :  — 

“  And  is  this  New  Year’s  Eve,  mother?  Oh,  mother,  can 
it  be ! 

Oh  what  a  sad,  sad  change,  mother,  this  year  hath 
wrought  in  me  ! 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


173 


Last  year  there  was  no  lighter  step,  there  was  no  brighter 
eye, 

There  was  no  merrier  heart  than  mine,  —  now  mother, 
what  am  I  ? 

“  A  theme  for  every  idle  jest,  sunk  lower  than  the  slave, 

With  blighted  name  and  broken  heart,  and  very  near  my 
grave ; 

For  I  feel  my  days  are  numbered,  my  life  is  waning 
fast, 

And  the  thought  is  strong  within  me,  that  this  night  will 
be  my  last. 

“  ’Tis  just  two  years  ago  to-day,  since  Mary  Ann  was 
laid, 

Amid  the  tears  of  young  and  old,  within  the  church¬ 
yard  shade ; 

How  sad  we  thought  the  fate  was,  for  one  so  young  and 

gay> 

To  die  thus  in  the  morn  of  life,  upon  her  marriage  day. 

“  But  now  I  envy  her  the  doom  ;  what  joy  for  you  and  me 

If  I  had  died  then,  mother,  when  innocent  and  free, 

Ere  I  became  what  I  am  now,  the  saddest  thing  in  life, 

Fallen,  —  deserted,  —  and  betrayed, — A  mother ,  not  a 
wife!  ” 

“  Of  a  group  of  lads  and  lasses,  methinks  I  caught  a 
glance ; 

My  old  companions  are  they  all,  just  hieing  to  the  dance  : 

And  they  will  pass  the  night  away  in  noisy  mirth  and  glee, 

While  the  shelter  of  a  prison-house  alone  remains  for  me. 

15* 


174 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


* i  I  remember  last  year’s  sleighride  over  the  frozen  snow, 

And  bow  we  danced  till  daylight,  and  the  skies  were  in 
a  glow ; 

I  was  the  lightest-hearted  one  of  all  the  merry  throng, 

* 

And  he  was  by  my  side  that  night  whom  I  had  loved  so 
long. 

“  Yes  I  was  very  fond  of  him,  he  seemed  so  far  above 

The  other  youths,  and  all  the  girls  were  envious  of  his 
love ; 

And  I  was  young  and  guileless,  and  how  could  I  believe 

That  when  he  spoke  of  love  to  me,  he  meant  but  to 
deceive  ? 

“  I  think  I  was  bewitched,  mother,  by  the  light  of  those 
dark  eyes, — 

By  the  murmured  vows  of  tenderness,  and  all  those  flat¬ 
tering  lies ; 

I  had  scorn  enough  for  others,  who  sought  to  win  my  love, 

But  he  seemed  to  my  unpractised  eye  as>  guileless  as  a 
dove. 

“  And  even  now  I  cannot  think  so  ill  of  him  as  you ; 

I  cannot  think  his  heart  so  bad  as  many  others  do : 

I  know  he’s  done  me  cruel  wrong,  and  bowed  my 
head  with  shame, 

And  yet  the  fault  was  not  all  his  ;  I  might  have  been  to 
blame. 

“I  know  how  oft  you  warned  me,  mother;  you  told  me 
oft  the  truth, 

That  village  girls  were  seldom  wed  by  high  and  wealthy 
youth ; 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


175 


But  I  thought  of  many  tales  I ’d  read,  and  of  the  songs 
I ’d  sung, 

How  noble  men  loved  lowly  maids,  if  beautiful  and 
young. 

/ 

“  But  judge  him  not  too  harshly,  mother,  though  I  so  sad 
beguiled, 

Though  now  he  strives  to  blight  my  name ;  and  will  not 
own  his  child  ; 

But  time  may  come  when  he  will  feel  his  need  to  be 
forgiven, 

And  you  11  forgive  him  for  my  sake,  when  I  am  gone  to 
heaven. 

“  Some  there  may  be  who’ll  not  regret  that  I  am  brought 
so  low, 

As  I  was  proud  and  haughty  then ;  but  I  am  humbled 
now : 

I  prized  too  much  my  beauty,  which  so  fully  proved  my 
bane, 

As  I  scorned  the  honest  and  the  true  that  offered  me 
their  name. 


* And  now  will  not  speak  to  me,  they  think  I  am  so 
vile, 

But  pass  me  with  a  scornful  look  or  with  a  meaning 
smile ; 

’T  ^  very  hard,  perhaps ’t  is  right,  but  still  I  think  I 
know 

If  they  had  borne  what  I  have  borne,  I  could  not  treat 
them  so. 


176 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


44  But  you  have  been  so  kind,  mother,  though  I  Ve  dis¬ 
graced  your  name ; 

You  soothed  me  in  my  sorrow,  nor  spoke  a  word  of 
blame : 

I  should  have  been  a  solace,  mother,  in  your  declining 
years ; 

I  should  have  brought  you  comfort,  —  I  have  only 
brought  you  tears. 

“I  never  can  repay  you,  mother,  for  your  patience  and 
your  love, 

But  your  kindness  and  your  tenderness  are  registered 
above ; 

And  He  will  sure  reward  you,  who  said  to  one  of  yore, 

4  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee,  daughter ;  go  and  sin  no 
more/ 

44  Oh,  how  we  mourned  when  father  died ;  but  now  tis  well 
tis  so ; 

He  never  could  have  borne  with  me  —  as  you  have  done, 
I  know : 

Pie  was  so  just,  so  good  himself,  he  could  not  understand 

The  temptations  that  beset  the  weak  ;  the  snares  on  every 
hand. 

44  But  now  he  sees  more  clearly,  in  that  blest  home  above, 

And  he  will  judge  more  mildly,  and  welcome  me  with 
love, 

"When  I  leave  this  weary  world  to  find  a  heavenly  home, 

Where  sinful  souls  are  purified,  and  sorrows  cannot 


come. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


177 


“But  you  will  keep  my  babe,  mother,  and  rear  her  as 
your  own ; 

May  she  repay  you  better,  mother,  than  ever  I  have 
done : 

Boor  babe,  she  has  her  father’s  smile,  his  bright  and 
beaming  eye ; 

Had  she  a  right  to  bear  his  name,  how  peaceful  could  I 
die. 

“  If  she  is  mild  and  gentle,  and  easily  controlled, _ 

Unlike  her  hapless  mother,  —  Oh,  let  her  not  be  told,  — 

Oh,  never  let  her  hear  her  wretched  mother’s  name, 

To  sadden  her  young  spirit,  and  flush  her  cheek  with 
shame. 

“  But  if  she ’s  like  her  mother,  as  wayward  and  as  wild, 

Though ’t  is  a  painful  legacy  to  leave  a  guiltless  child, 

Then  tell  her  all  my  story,  though  she  thinks  of  me  with 
hate ; 

Better  to  scorn  her  mother’s  name,  than  share  her  mother’s 
fate. 

“  And  now  g°°d  night,  dear  mother;  I  hope  that  ere  the 
sun 

Sheds  its  first  ray  to-morrow  morn,  my  troubles  will  be 
done : 

And  do  not  weep  for  me,  mother ;  when  I  have  left  you 
here, 

Within  a  peaceful  dwelling-place,  will  dawn  my  next 
New  Year.” 

I  sat  long  that  evening  listening  to  the  tale  of 
this  poor  maniac,  for  I  soon  saw  that  reason,  if  not 


178 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


bereft,  was  trembling  on  its  throne.  The  next 
morning  the  necessary  means  were  taken  to  send 
her  to  her  mother,  and  we  had  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  she  reached  her  home  in  safety. 
But  I  learned  that  her  story  was  but  too  true,  and 
a  few  weeks  after  I  read  an  account  of  her  death 
in  a  newspaper. 

The  seducer  now  moves  in  the  higher  circles  of 
society  in  this  city.  I  know  him  well,  and  have 
often  watched  him  when  he  little  thought  that  the 
eye  of  one  who  knew  the  secret  of  his  guilt  rested 
on  him.  He  is  wealthy,  proud,  and  haughty; 
but  I  believe  the  dregs  of  remorse  and  bitterness 
are  in  his  cup ;  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  that 
ever-restless  eye  and  nervous  demeanor  indicate 
a  worm  at  the  heart. 


JOHN  H  BUFFORDS  LITH  4-90  WASH N  ST  BOSTON 

MARIA  WHiPPLE 


MARIA  WHIPPLE. 


In  the  fall  of  1857,  numerous  reports  of  house 
robberies  were  made  to  the  Police,  perpetrated  in 
various  parts  of  the  city.  These  robberies  were 
mostly  committed  at  noonday,  and  generally  con¬ 
sisted  of  ladies’  clothing.  At  length  these  com¬ 
plaints  became  so  numerous,  it  was  thought  there 
must  be  an  organized  gang  perambulating  the  city, 
and  the  whole  police  force  were  on  the  alert. 
Descriptions  were  given,  by  the  various  sufferers,  of 
a  girl  that  applied  for  board,  on  whom  suspicions 
rested.  Some  said  she  was  tall,  slim,  and  good- 
looking  ;  others,  that  she  was  rather  short  and  or¬ 
dinary.  One  thought  her  thick-set  and  ruddy ; 
another,  that  she  was  medium  size..  Now,  she  had 
a  full,  round  face  and  pug  nose ;  then  thin-favored, 
with  nose  aquiline.  In  fact,  no  two  described  the 
supposed  thief  alike  at  all,  with  the  exception  of 
one  feature,  —  all  agreed  that  she  had  red  hair. 
The  police  finally  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that 
there  were  either  a  whole  family  of  red-headed 
thieves,  or  else  one  very  busy  individual,  who  had 


180 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


miraculous  powers  of  ubiquity.  Accordingly,  red¬ 
headed  ladies  were  objects  of  much  interest  to  our 
department,  and  many  and  laughable  were  the  jokes 
cracked  at  their  expense,  and  almost  any  officer 
would  readily  affirm  that  at  least  every  other  head 
seen  in  the  street  had  at  least  an  auburn  hair.  Per¬ 
haps  those  who  are  unpractised  in  our  line  might 
think  it  a  little  odd,  but,  to  solve  the  problem,  let 
him  take  a  walk  up  Hanover  or  Washington  Street 
some  fine  afternoon,  and  undertake  to  look  up  some 
individual  in  a  particular  dress ;  for  instance,  he 
wants  to  find  a  boy  about  seventeen,  dressed  in  short 
jacket,  and  a  close-fitting,  gray,  round- top  cap,  or  a 
lady  in  a  black  dress,  with  auburn  curls  and  pink 
bonnet ;  and  if  he  don’t  come  in  within  an  hour 
ready  to  swear  that  there  are  a  thousand  on  the 
street  of  either  kind,  I  am  mistaken. 

At  last  one  of  our  officers  got  a  little  additional 
description,  on  which  he  thought  he  could  rely,  and 
a  part  of  his  beat  being  on  Hanover  Street,  where 
many  ladies  pass,  he  resolved  to  capture  one  of  the 
red-heads ,  at  any  rate.  It  was  not  many  days  before 
he  encountered  a  young  lady  on  the  street  who  had 
the  required  description,  and,  in  addition,  a  nice 
bundle  in  her  arms.  He  followed  her  along  till 
opposite  the  Station  House,  and  politely  tapping 
her  on  the  shoulder  invited  her  in.  She  appeared 
very  modest,  said  her  name  was  Maria  Whipple, 
was  a  vestmaker,  and  the  bundle  contained  her 


_ 

POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS.  181 

work,  which  she  was  taking  to  the  shop.  On  ex¬ 
amination,  however,  the  bundle  contained  one  silk 
dress,  one  fur  victorine,  one  lady’s  mantilla,  one 
child  s  apron  and  hood,  and  one  checked  shawl. 
This  was  rather  uncommon  work  for  a  vestmaker’s 
establishment  to  put  out,  and  as  none  of  the  cloth¬ 
ing  seemed  to  be  a  fit  for  herself,  it  was  thought 
prudent  to  investigate  further;  and  on  several 
persons  who  had  suffered  by  the  red-headed  girl 
being  sent  for,  she  was  identified,  beyond  dispute. 

When  the  girl  became  satisfied  that  she  was  de 
tected,  she  said  if  we  would  not  be  hard  with  her  she 
would  tell  all ,  and  do  all  she  could  to  recover  the 
property  she  had  taken ;  but  the  effort  proved  a 
heavy  tax  on  her  memory,  for  she  alone  comprised 
the  whole  red-headed  family  we  had  been  seeking 
for.  The  next  day,  her  arrest  having  been  made 
known,  some  forty  victims  called  to  see  her,  the  esti¬ 
mate  of  their  losses  in  the  aggregate  amounting  to 
over  one  thousand  dollars.  Of  this  amount  the 
officers  recovered  in  value  some  eight  hundred 
dollars.  Maria  was  taken  before  the  court,  and  al¬ 
though  her  offences  might  have  sent  her  to  prison 
a  lifetime,  she  was  sentenced  but  two  years. 

Maiia  s  story  (although  that  was  an  assumed 
name)  was  soon  told.,  She  was  about  twenty  years 
old,  and  having  no  friends  to  care  for  her,  she  came 
to  Boston  from  a  neighboring  State  to  seek  employ¬ 
ment  as  a  vestmaker,  having  learned  that  trade  at 

16 


182 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


home.  She  engaged  board  with  a  respectable 
widow  lady  at  the  South  End,  and  went  out  in  search 
of  work ;  but  being  a  stranger,  with  no  one  to  rec¬ 
ommend  her,  she  travelled  about  day  after  day  with¬ 
out  meeting  with  any  success.  In  a  short  time  her 
board-bill  exceeded  the  small  amount  of  funds  she 
possessed,  and  one  morning  the  landlady  demanded 
payment.  She  paid  all  she  had,  and  again  put  on 
her  things  and  went  out,  to  renew  her  efforts  for 
work ;  but  in  vain.  She  felt  she  could  not  go  back 
without  any  prospect  of  paying  her  board  to  ask  for 
another  meal,  and  the  thought  struck  her  that  she 
must  get  a  new  boarding-place  at  once.  She  wan¬ 
dered  about,  she  hardly  knew  where,  and  coming 
to  a  house  where  “  Boarding  ”  was  on  the  door,  she 
summoned  courage  to  make  an  application.  The 
people  in  the  house  turned  her  coldly  away.  As  she 
passed  out  through  the  entry,  an  opportunity  offered, 
and  in  a  fit  of  desperation  she  took  a  lady’s  cloak 
and  made  her  escape.  The  cloak  was  carried  to  a 
broker,  and  pawned  for  enough  to  liquidate  her 
board-bill,  which  was  immediately  carried  home  and 
appropriated  to  that  purpose. 

Said  she,  “  I  consoled  myself  on  this,  mg  first  theft , 
that  my  necessity  was  an  excuse  for  the  act,  but  it 
paved  the  way  for  my  ruin.  I  began  to  feel  that 
there  was  but  two  ways  for  me ;  one  was  to  steal, 
the  other,  to  abandon  mg  self  to  the  town.  Of  the  two 
evils,  I  thought  I  chose  the  least.”  She  had  stolen 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS.  183 

probably  twelve  hundred  dollars  in  value,  sold  it 
all  to  the  brokers,  and  for  the  whole  had  received 
less  than  one  hundred  dollars. 

I  envy  not  the  purchasers  their  ill-gotten  gains 
had  no  owner  appeared ;  but,  as  it  proved,  the  spec¬ 
ulation  for  most  of  them  was  not  very  profitable. 

When  Maria’s  term  of  service  expired,  she  came 
out  of  prison  with  the  good  wishes  of  all  her  over¬ 
seers,  and  was  sent  to  the  kind-hearted  matron  of 
the  Home  in  Kneeland  Street,  who  soon  procured 
her  a  situation  in  a  family  in  a  neighboring  city.  X 
have  no  doubt  her  story  was  true;  but  she  had 
been  in  prison,  was*  disgraced  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  and  had  lost  her  own  self-respect.  She 
stole  no  more,  but  she  was  soon  an  inmate  of  a 
mad-house. 


BEGGARS. 


I  never  was  very  partial  to  beggars,  although  I 
believe  a  hungry  woman  or  child  never  went  away 
from  my  door  empty ;  but  the  bloated,  red-nosed 
beggar,  whose  breath  smells  like  a  cask  of  decayed 
onions,  never  met  with  a  very  hearty  welcome 
with  me.  But,  opposed  to  the  practice  as  I  am,  I 
one  day  found  myself  very  deeply  engaged  in  the 
same  occupation ;  and  although  I  never  took  much 
pride  in  relating  my  own  exploits,  yet  I  believe  on 
that  day  I  performed  a  feat  of  begging  that  will 
not  find  a  parallel  in  Boston. 

The  cause  that  gave  rise  to  the  course  I  pursued 
was  this.  In  the  year  1856,  when  I  had  charge 
of  Police  Station  No.  1,  a  few  days  before  Thanks¬ 
giving,  a  poor  woman  came  into  my  office  and  in¬ 
quired  if  I  could  give  her  some  work.  I  had  no 
work  for  her ;  but  her  thin,  pale  face  and  a  long- 
drawn  sigh  as  she  turned  to  go  away,  somehow 
made  me  feel  kind  of  bad  under  my  waistcoat, 
although  accustomed  daily  as  I  was  to  witness 
cases  of  poverty  and  want.  I  called  her  back,  and 
told  her  if  she  would  leave  her  name  and  residence 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


185 


I  would  try  and  find  some  work  for  her.  To  this 
she  gladly  assented.  She  told  me  where  she  lived, 
and  that  she  had  three  small  children,  her  husband 
having  been  dead  about  a  year,  leaving  her  desti¬ 
tute  and  in  poor  health.  Said  she,  “  When  Wil¬ 
liam  was  alive  we  were  poor,  but  comfortable ;  we 
always  had  enough  to  eat,  and  something  nice  for 
Thanksgiving ;  but  if  I  cannot  get  some  work,  we 
shall  have  to  go  without  this  year.”  I  gave  her  a 
little  change,  and  she  went  away  wiping  the  tears 
from  her  eyes.  As  the  poor  woman  left  my  office, 
I  resolved  that  she  should  not  go  without  a  supper 
for  herself  and  little  ones  on  Thanksgiving  Day ; 
and  as  I  sat  thinking  of  the  privations  and  sorrows 
that  must  weigh  down  the  heart  of  that  poor 
widow,  it  occurred  to  me  that  this  was  but  one 
case  of  many  that  existed  on  my  own  Station,  and 
within  my  own  knowledge,  where  rigid  necessity 
would  allow  but  a  scanty  meal  even  on  Thanks¬ 
giving  Day. 

But  what  could  I  do  ?  I  had  not  the  means  to 
furnish  them  all  with  a  supper.  But  I  did  not  feel 
satisfied  with  that  argument ;  could  not  I  do  some¬ 
thing  ?  I  knew  plenty  of  people,  many  of  whom, 
perhaps,  would  give  something  for  such  a  purpose; 
but  could  I  go  out  and  beg  ?  I  could  hardly  beg 
for  myself,  were  I  ever  so  needy ;  but  this  would 
be  begging  for  the  needy.  I  would  get  laughed  at 
for  my  pains.  “  Don’t  care  ;  that  wont  hurt  me ; 

1G* 


186 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


the  object  is  worth  an  effort,  at  least ;  ”  and  my 
resolution  was  soon  formed.  I  had  no  time  to 
lose,  and  commenced  on  my  new  plan  at  once  by 
drawing  up  the  following  document : — 

“We,  the  undersigned,  respectively  contribute 
the  sum  of  one  dollar  each,  to  be  expended  by 

Captain  -  for  the  purpose  of  furnishing  a 

Thanksgiving  supper  for  destitute  widows  and 
orphans  residing  on  Police  Station  No.  One.” 

On  the  following  day,  at  ten  o’clock  A.  M.  pre¬ 
cisely,  with  my  credentials  in  hand  as  above  drawn, 
and  with  all  the  cheek  I  could  summon,  I  sallied 
forth  to  try  my  luck.  I  took  the  precaution  to 
secure  a  few  names  at  the  head  of  the  list  that 
were  favorably  known  among  the  tradesmen  on 
Hanover  and  Blackstone  streets,  and  my  work 
was  well  begun. 

Having  for  several  years  been  in  a  position  to 
be  pretty  well  known  to  the  business  people  at  the 
North  End,  and  asking  for  but  one  dollar  of  any 
one  for  an  object  that  commended  itself  to  every 
generous  impulse  of  the  heart,  I  met  with  much 
better  success  than  I  had  anticipated.  My  cause 
was  so  good,  my  encouragement  so  flattering,  and 
I  entered  into  the  spirit  of  my  business  so  deeply, 
that  I  forgot  my  own  dinner,  and  continued  my 
efforts  till  five  o’clock  P.  M.,  when  I  repaired  to 
my  Station  House  to  get  breath,  and  take  an  ac¬ 
count  of  stock  ;  and  I  must  acknowledge  I  felt  not 
only  a  little  proud,  but  somewhat  surprised  at  my 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


187 


success,  for  till  then  I  had  not  the  least  idea  how 
much  I  had  received.  On  counting  my  money,  I 
found  I  had  collected  one  hundred  and  thirty-nine 
dollars,  of  one  hundred  and  thirty-nine  persons,  in 
seven  consecutive  hours,  averaging  one  dollar  in 
about  every  three  minutes.  (I  would  like  to  shake 
hands  with  the  man  that  can  beat  that  begging.) 
The  next  day  I  made  a  handsome  addition  to  the 
fund,  and  the  proceeds  were  appropriated  to  the 
purchase  of  such  articles  of  provision  as  was 
thought  would  be  most  valuable  and  acceptable  to 
those  for  whom  they  were  designed. 

In  the  mean  time,  my  officers  had  assisted  me  in 
completing  a  list  of  those  persons  thought  to  be  most 
needy  and  worthy,  and  the  day  before  Thanksgiv¬ 
ing,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  leaving  at  the  door  of 
over  one  hundred  tenements  (not  forgetting  the 
widow  whose  sorrowful  story  had  given  me  the  first 
impulse  to  beg)  ample  means  to  satisfy  the  hunger 
and  gladden  the  hearts  of  those  dwelling  therein, 
for  one  day  at  least. 

If  those  generous  he  ark;  who  furnished  the  means 
for  those  little  blessings,  could  have  on  that  day 
witnessed* what  I  witnessed,  and  enjoyed  the  pleas¬ 
ure  of  giving,  as  well  as  I  did  in  distributing  their 
generous  liberality,  I  feel  sure  they  would  have 
thought  it  a  good  investment. 

I  have  carefully  preserved  their  names  on  that 
subscription  list,  hut  their  deeds  are  written  in  a 
book  that  will  last  longer  than  mine. 


\  CHAPTER  ON  HATS. 


Wm  Las  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  dwell¬ 
ing  in  civilised  society,  that  does  not  realize  the 
importance  attached  to  a  fashionable,  genteel  hat. 

It  has  been  the  pride  and  the  ornament  of  the 
lords  of  creation  from  time  immemorial.  Long  and 
loud,  by  legend  and  lyric,  have  its  praises  been  said 
and  sung,  by  rich  and  poor,  old  and  young,  bond 
and  free,  while  its  elegant  figure  has  undergone 
every  transformation  that  human  ingenuity  could 
invent;  first  assuming  the  form  of  a  triangular 
cone,  —  then  the  shape  of  a  genteel  sugar-loaf,  — 
next  of  an  inverted  dinner-bell ;  now  it  steps  forth 
in  the  shape  of  an  oyster  keg,  —  next,  the  pattern 
of  a  brown-bread  loaf,  —  next,  perhaps,  the  copy  of 
a  pyramid,  and  then  the  fac-simile  of  a  cheese-box, — 
/  or,  mayhap,  a  thing  without  comparison  in  shape,  yet 
still  imparting  spirit  and  life  to  its  possessor,  and 
still  the  admiration  of  all. 

Neither  has  the  character  and  position  of  this 
strange  object  been  less  varied  than  its  form.  First, 
it  graces  the  head  of  a  monarch,  —  then  it  is  the 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


189 


habitation  of  a  nest  of  young  rats  in  a  garret ;  to-day, 
the  pride  of  an  admiring  multitude,  —  to-morrow, 
floating  in  a  frog-pond,  a  roost  for  tadpoles,  or  lying 
hid  in  the  depths  of  an  ash  barrel.  Such  has  been 
its  history  in  all  ages  of  the  world,  and  such  its 
fate  ;  and  yet  it  has  been  but  a  prototype  of  its 
possessor. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  an  article  which  has  at¬ 
tracted  such  universal  attention  of  nations  and  com¬ 
munities  in  all  ages  of  the  world,  should  occasion¬ 
ally  become  an  object  of  individual  interest  in  our 
own  day ;  and  such  was  actually  the  case  a  few 
days  since. 

For  many  years  past  a  highly  respectable  firm  of 
hat  manufacturers,  “  not  a  thousand  miles  from  ” 
the  State  of  Massachusetts ,  have  occupied  an  estab¬ 
lishment  where  a  salesroom  was  conspicuous  on  the 
ground  floor,  while  the  manufacturing  rooms  were 
in  the  stories  above. 

Of  late  one  of  the  younger  members  of  the  firm, 
who  has  the  supervision  of  the  manufacturing 
branch,  has  on  several  occasions  missed  a  specimen 
of  his  handiwork  in  the  night-time,  and  thought 
the  circumstances  most  singular ;  but  being  a  pru¬ 
dent  man  he  kept  the  matter  to  himself,  and  resolved 
to  watch. 

A  few  evenings  since,  at  the  close  of  work,  a  hat 
of  peculiar  beauty  having  been  finished  all  but  ad 
justing  the  lining,  was  left  on  the  bench  to  receive 


190 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


a  finishing  touch  the  next  morning.  When  the 
man  opened  his  shop  the  hat  was  gone,. and  know¬ 
ing  that  none  but  members  of  the  firm  had  keys,  he 
at  once  concluded  that  some  burglar  with  false  keys 
had  entered  the  shop.  He  immediately  reported 
his  loss  to  the  Police,  and  an  officer  was  detailed  to 
investigate  the  case. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  the  young 
hatter  came  into  the  office  quite  out  of  breath,  say¬ 
ing  he  had  discovered  his  hat  on  the  head  of  a  man 
in  the  street,  and  had  followed  and  saw  the  man 
enter  a  certain  house.  An  officer  went  with  him 
to  the  house,  where  the  man  and  hat  were  found 
without  difficulty.  The  man,  who  did  not  seem 
disposed  to  say  how  he  came  by  the  hat,  was  locked 
up  for  a  thief,  and  the  hat  was  retained  for  evi¬ 
dence,  —  the  hatter  declaring  that  he  would  swear 
to  his  property  on  a  stack  of  bibles,  and  pointed 
out  his  marks,  so  that  no  one  doubted  his  correct¬ 
ness. 

After  the  prisoner  had  been  in  custody  a  short 
time  a  lady  called  to  see  him,  and  on  being  told 
why  he  was  detained,  she  said  the  man  was  no 
thief,  and  was  held  wrongfully,  for  she  herself  had 
that  day  made  him  a  present  of  that  hat ;  and  if 
anybody  was  accused  of  stealing  it,  she  would 
frankly  tell  how  she  came  by  it.  At  her  earnest  so¬ 
licitation  the  young  hatter  was  sent  for.  He  came, 
but  he  was  not  the  man  she  desired  to  see. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


191 


“  Is  there  not,”  said  she,  44  another  gentleman 
in  your  firm,  that  has  grayish  hair,  and  sometimes 
walks  with  a  cane  %  ” 

44  Yes,”  said  the  young  hatter. 

44  Well,  send  for  him,”  said  she  ;  44  he  is  the  man 
that  I  want  to  see.” 

There  was  some  hesitation  on  the  part  of  the 
young  hatter ;  but  the  case  began  to  grow  interest¬ 
ing,  and  an  officer  went  for  the  gentleman,  who 
soon  made  his  appearance. 

44  There,”  said  the  lady,  44  that  is  the  gentleman, 
and  this  is  my  story.  As  I  was  taking  a  walk  "on 
last  Friday  evening,  I  fell  in  company  with  this 
gentleman.  He  bade  me  good-evening,  and  we 
passed  on  conversing  together.  When  wre  got 
opposite  a  certain  block,  he  said  he  had  got  to  go 
in  there  a  moment,  and  if  I  would  wmit,  he  would 
be  my  company  further  on.  He  took  out  his  keys, 
opened  the  door,  and  started  upstairs.  I  saw  he 
was  somewhat  lame,  and  offered  to  assist  him  up  ; 
and,  at  his  consent,  I  did  so.  When  he  came  out, 
he  took  this  hat  from  a  bench  and  gave  it  me ;  I 
thought  no  harm,  and  carried  it  home,  and  to¬ 
day  gave  it  to  my  friend  who  is  now  locked  up  for 
stealing  it.  Is  my  story  correct,  sir  1  ”  said  she  to 
the  senior  partner. 

The  gentleman,  who  had  stood  transfixed  while 
she  was  telling  her  story,  turned  indignantly  on 
his  heel  and  walked  out  of  the  office  without  say- 


192 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


ing  a  word.  The  lady  then  turned  to  the  young 
hatter,  and  demanded  her  hat  and  the  release  of 
her  friend.  The  hatter  thought  it  rather  steep, 
but,  on  a  little  reflection,  he  said  — 

“  I  don’t  care  to  go  to  court,  and,  Mr.  Officer,  if 
you  please  you  may  discharge  the  prisoner  and 
give  her  the  hat.” 


•  '  V 


i 


WimB 


Ks?!p$Sfc 

SSNr 


H  BUFFORD  S  LI  fH  *V0WA3HNST  B0?T0.f' 


■  v;"-tf  *ii 

V  V:, 

W  -  ■-  ;  ‘ 

i|| 

^S| 

Savfo" 

CONFIDENCE  MAN. 


A  CONFIDENCE  MAN. 


The  detectives  celebrated  All  Fools  Day  in  the 
year  1862,  by  cribbing  and  showing  up  a  celebrated 
rascal  who  has  been  both  a  rogue  and  a  fool  all 
the  days  of  his  life. 

Chauncey  Larkin ,  who  has  followed  his  trade 
under  the  name  of  Colonel  Gorman,  Colonel 
Dupont,  Colonel  Dudley,  and  Lieutenant  Smith, 
having  arrived  at  the  Winthrop  House  last  evening, 
and  being  wanted  by  the  police  in  New  York,  was  * 
arrested  by  our  police,  and  brought  into  the  Office. 
When  brought  in  he  was  dressed  in  a  colonel’s 
uniform,  and  was  quite  indignant,  and  said  some 
big  words  ;  but  on  being  confronted  with  some  old 

acquaintances  (for  he  had  been  here  before),  he 

\  , 

caved  in,  and  acknowledged  that  the  day  was  pro¬ 
pitious  to  his  case. 

In  his  possession  were  found  various  interesting 
papers  from  distinguished  personages.  One  pur¬ 
porting  to  be  from  Mr.  Johnson,  United  States 
Marshal  for  Kentucky,  calling  the  attention  of 
Governor  Buell  to  the  Henry  Eifle  Manufacturing 

17 


194 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


Company  in  New  Haven,  Conn.,  as  suitable  for  a 
regiment  of  cavalry  raised  by  Colonel  Dudley.  A 
second  was  from  General  Buell,  directing  Colonel 
Dudley  to  proceed  to  New  Haven,  and  make  arrange¬ 
ments  for  procuring  rifles  for  his  regiment.  Of 
course  these  papers  were  all  forgeries,  to  aid  him  in 
raising  the  wind.  However,  he  contracted  with  the 
New  Haven  Company  for  one  thousand  rifles,  but 
had  obtained  only  a  single  pair,  when  his  prog¬ 
ress  was  arrested. 

He  had  also  several  letters  of  a  sentimental 
character,  among  which  was  one  from  the  young 
ladies  of  a  seminary  in  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  thanking 
him  for  a  visit  to  their  institution  under  the  name 
of  Colonel  Dupont,  and  for  his  autograph,  kindly 
written  with  his  hand  in  a  sling,  which  he  pre¬ 
tended  had  been  wounded  in  a  late  battle. 

A  few  days  previous  to  his  visit  at  New  Haven, 
he  visited  a  celebrated  military  establishment  in 
New  York  City,  representing  himself  as  Colonel 
Dupont,  or  rather  Commodore  Dupont,  dressed  in 
a  colonel’s  uniform  complete,  excepting  a  sword 
and  sash.  He  said  he  was  commissioned  by  the 
War  Department  to  select  a  model  sword,  and  was 
fortunate  enough  to  find  one  that  exactly  suited 
him.  The  firm  felt  highly  flattered  with  his 
favors,  and  while  in  the  store  having  casually  re¬ 
marked  that  he  was  to  dine  with  General  Scott 
that  day,  he  was  urged  to  accept  the  loan  of  the 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


195 


sword,  and  also  of  a  beautiful  silk  sash,  for  the 
inspection  of  the  brave  old  general  and  General 
Anderson,  who  was  likewise  to  be  a  guest.  He 
carried  off  the  goods,  and  forgot  to  return  them. 

The  same  gentleman  operated  in  Boston  some 
dozen  years  ago  on  quite  an  extensive  scale,  under 
the  name  of  Lieutenant  Hunter,  and  at  that  time 
produced  quite  a  sensation. 

He  purchased  real  estate,  ships,  merchandise, 
coal,  produce,  &c.  &c.,  in  large  quantities,  but  did 
not  take  possession,  although  in  most  cases  he  man¬ 
aged  to  raise  a  little  ready  money  by  the  opera¬ 
tion.  It  was  said  that  he  went  into  one  speculation 
in  fancy  stock  that  was  not  made  public  at  the 
time,  on  this  wise  :  A  landlord  who  had  just  fitted 
up  a  crack  hotel  in  the  city,  had  been  at  consider¬ 
able  expense  in  furnishing  a  suit  of  rooms  for  bridal 
chambers,  and  which  really  presented  a  striking 
feature  in  the  establishment.  At  the  time  the 
dashing  Lieutenant  flourished  in  this  locality,  these 
rooms  had  just  been  completed,  but  had  not  been 
occupied.  This  coming  to  the  knowledge  of  Lieu¬ 
tenant  Hunter,  he  at  once  conceived  the  happy  idea 
of  giving  them  a  christening.  Accordingly  the 
dashing  Lieutenant  with  his  wife,  one  bright  moon¬ 
light  evening,  jumped  into  the  nearest  hack,  drove 
to  the  aforesaid  hotel,  reported  himself  as  bride¬ 
groom  and  lady,  just  arrived  from  Providence ; 
engaged  the  bridal  rooms,  ordered  a  splendid 


196 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


supper,  and,  with  the  exception  of  some  round 
swearing,  because  the  extra  carriage  with  his  ser¬ 
vants  and  baggage  did  not  arrive,  all  things  went 
smoothly  on.  However,  he  consoled  himself  and 
his  worthy  host  with  the  idea  that  by  mistake  these 
had  gone  to  some  other  hotel,  and,  as  it  was  quite 
late,  he  would  let  the  matter  rest  till  morning.  As 
the  couple  were  somewhat  weary  with  their  journey, 
they  retired  to  their  splendidly-furnished  chambers 
to  forget  the  cares  of  life  in  general,  and  the  per¬ 
plexities  of  travelling  with  baggage  and  careless 
attendants  in  particular. 

On  repairing  to  the  chambers  at  a  late  hour  the 
next  morning,  to  his  great  surprise  and  chagrin, 
our  host  found  them  vacant. 

The  next  seen  of  Lieutenant  Hunter  was  at  City 
Marshal  Tukey’s  Office,  under  arrest  for  swindling 
a  merchant  on  one  of  the  wharves  out  of  three  hun¬ 
dred  dollars.  For  this  he  was  sent  to  the  State’s 
Prison  at  Charlestown  for  three  years. 

After  serving  out  his  time  in  Charlestown  he 
went  to  New  York,  where  he  was  again  caught  at 
his  old  tricks,  and  sent  to  Sing  Sing,  where  he 
served  four  years  more.  Where  he  has  since  been 
is  not  quite  certain,  but  he  now  turns  up  again, 
“  the  same  old  coon.” 

'Larkin  is  still  a  young-looking  man,  and  is  very 
active,  although  he  must  be  rising  forty.  He  will 
be  sent  to  New  York,  where  the  courts  will  proba- 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


197 


bly  give  him  a  little  of  the  “  sword  ”  exercise,  and 
send  him  again  to  his  old  home  at  Sing  Sing. 

When  he  rose  to  depart  I  saw  the  tears  standing  in 
his  eyes,  and  as  he  took  a  very  gentlemanly  leave  of 
those  in  the  office,  he  remarked,  “  This  is  All-Fool's 
day ,  and  I  am  a  large  stockholder.” 

17* 


t 


THIEVES  WITH  A  BAG. 


“  He  was  a  thief,  and  had  the  bag,”  was  an 
epithet  applied  to  one  in  olden  time,  and  his  name 
has  come  down  to  us  in  disgrace. 

A  thief  is  a  thief,  in  any  age  of  the  world  ;  but 
whether  the  bag  and  the  way  of  carrying  it  is  of 
modern  invention,  or  patented  by  the  old  thief 
aforesaid,  is  not  quite  clear. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  fact  is  evident  that  we 
have  thieves  amongst  us  at  the  present  day  who 
carry  bags,  and  very  big  bags  too,  and  female 
thieves  at  that ;  and  honest  shopkeepers  in  Boston 
(it  is  supposed  there  are  some)  are  hardly  aware 
to  what  extent  they  are  fleeced  by  the  walking 
warehouses  that  promenade  our  streets. 

In  most  of  the  retail  dry  goods  stores  the  method 
of  showing  goods  to  customers  results  in  piling 
them  up  promiscuously  in  large  quantities  on  the 
counters,  and  several  pieces  might  not  be  missed 
till  night  nor  even  then,  and  it  is  more  than  prob¬ 
able  that  the  footing  up  of  the  year’s  profit  in  many 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


199 


cases  is  seriously  affected  by  the  divers  appropria¬ 
tions  made  by  the  bagging  fraternity  to  the  utter 
astonishment  of  the  proprietor,  and  leaving  per¬ 
haps  a  most  cruel  and  unjust  suspicion  on  some 
innocent  clerk  or  salesman. 

These  female  bag  thieves  —  for  they  are  mostly 
females  —  generally  “  go  shopping”  in  pairs.  One 
prices  the  goods,  and  while  she  engages  the  atten¬ 
tion  of  the  salesman,  the  other  bags  whatever  she 
can  lay  her  hands  on. 

The  thief-bag  is  no  great  curiosity  in  itself,  but, 
like  most  good  things,  is  very  simple  and  useful. 
It  generally  consists  of  about  two  yards  of  cotton 
cloth,  doubled  and  sewed  up  at  the  sides,  with  a 
strong  cord  about  the  top,  to  fasten  about  the 
waist  under  the  dress,  with  a  pocket  hole  on  one 
side.  This,  when  y^ell  filled,  answers  all  the  pur¬ 
poses  of  the  most  approved  balmoral.  I  have 
known  a  woman  to  secrete  and  carry  off  a  whole 
web  of  cotton  cloth  in  one  of  these  bags. 

In  the  summer  of  1862,  one  of  the  officers 
brought  in  one  of  the  professors  of  the  art,  who 
carried  a  bag,  and  it  was  well  filled,  too  ;  but  the 
bag  was  a  little  different  from  those  above  de¬ 
scribed.  She  wore  a  Florence  silk  dress  of  a  costly 
pattern  ;  the  dress  was  made  with  a  stout  lining, 
forming  a  bag  of  the  whole  front  part,  which 
would  hold  at  least  six  bushels.  She  was  making 
her  morning  calls  when  arrested,  but  had  succeeded 


200 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


in  bagging  about  sixty  dollars  worth  of  ribbons, 
and  a  lot  of  laces,  gloves,  hosiery,  &c.,  amounting 
in  value  to  over  one  hundred  dollars.  These  had 

V 

all  been  taken  at  one  store,  and  were  not  missed 
by  the  proprietor.  What  amount  she  would  have 
bagged  in  the  course  of  the  day,  had  not  her  prog¬ 
ress  been  arrested,  it  is  impossible  to  say,  but  she 
had  made  a  fair  beginning.  It  was  subsequently 
ascertained  that  she  kept  a  variety  store  at  the 
South  End,  and  was  retailing  goods  very  cheap,  — 
in  fact,  sometimes'  much  cheaper  than  could  be 
purchased  of  the  importer  or  manufacturer,  and  no 
doubt  she  realized  good  profits  at  that. 

This  is  by  no  means  a  solitary  instance  that 
came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  police,  as  numerous 
cases  of  the  same  nature  occur  every  year. 

The  light-fingered  gentry  that  carry  the  bag,  as 
I  have  already  said,  are  mostly  females,  who  op¬ 
erate  on  dry  goods  stores  ;  but  cases  among  the 
other  sex  are  sometimes  detected,  where  overcoats 
with  tremendous  big  pockets  in  the  inside  of  the 
skirt,  serve  for  the  bag ;  and  in  relation  to  the 
dry  goods  trade,  also,  the  rule,  like  all  others,  has 
its  exceptions,  as  this  class  sometimes  engage  in  the 
grocery  and  provision  business  to  some  extent. 

I  recollect  a  case  that  occurred  on  the  23d  day 
of  February,  1860.  One  Margaret  (I  will  not 
mention  the  other  name)  was  brought  into  the 
Station  House  by  some  citizens.  She  had  got  a 

J 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


201 


little  top-heavy,  and  fell  in  Blackstone  Street. 
When  brought  in,  her  appearance  looked  a  little 
suspicious,  and  on  examination  disclosed  one  of  the 
cotton  bags,  worn  as  usual,  containing  the  follow¬ 
ing  schedule  of  contents,  viz :  One  bottle  cham- 
paigne,  two  glass  tumblers  (one  broken),  two 
earthen  plates,  two  oranges,  one  apple,  three  boiled 
eggs,  one  pound  of  butter,  one  pound  of  sugar 
(loose),  a  double  handful  of  black  tea,  five  seed¬ 
cakes,  two  doughnuts,  one  pepper-box,  one  mus¬ 
tard  spoon,  part  of -a  boiled  potato,  and  two  un¬ 
cooked  onions.  Unaccountable  as  this  may  seem, 
it  is  true  to  the  letter ;  but  how  or  where  she 
obtained  them,  I  never  could  learn.  She  had 
probably  made  a  grab  in  every  grocery  and  pro¬ 
vision  shop  and  every  saloon  she  had  entered ;  but 
no  one  would  claim  any  of  the  property,  and  she 
was  discharged  from  custody  when  she  became 
sober,  saying,  “  it  was  a  shame  that  a  dacent 
woman  cannot  go  out  shopping  jist  without  being 
insulted  by  the  Perlice ” 


A  TRIP  AMONG  THE  SNOWBANKS. 


Haying  occasion  to  make  a  short  tour  into  the 
country,  partly  on  business  connected  with  my  de¬ 
partment  and  partly  to  visit  some  friends,  I  sallied 
forth  one  winter  morning  with  valise  in  hand,  and 
proceeded  to  the  Fitchburg  Railroad  Depot.  On 
arriving  at  the  depot,  just  as  the  cars  were  about  to 
start,  I  took  a  seat  in  a  comfortable  car,  marked 
Cheshire  R.  R.,  and  soon  found  my  cage  in  motion. 
In  a  few  minutes  the  bridge  railings  over  Charles 
River,  and  the  numerous  shops  and  buildings  in 
our  sister  city  of  pigs  and  pigeons,  were  receding 
from  view  with  true  railroad  speed. 

After  indulging  in  a  passing  glance  at  the  figures 
of  some  score  of  human  beings  that  had  taken  up 
their  temporary  habitation  in  our  flying  house,  some 
of  whom  were  eagerly  devouring  the  morning  news, 
while  others  seemed  deeply  engaged  in  communion 
with  their  own  thoughts,  and  seeing  nothing  that 
was  likely  to  break  the  monotony  of  a  quiet  ride,  I 
nestled  myself  into  one  corner  of  a  double  seat,  so 
as  to  get  as  good  a  view  as  possible  of  external  cir¬ 
cumstances  through  a  frosty  pane  of  glass,  and 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


203 


calmly  resigned  myself  to  the  elements  that  had 
been  brought  into  requisition  for  the  benefit  of 
myself  and  companions  on  this  occasion. 

The  morning  was  cold,  but  beautifully  fine,  and  the 
large  fleece  of  snow  that  had  so  recently  spread  its 
white  mantle  over  the  landscape,  had  here  entirely 
disappeared,  and  every  object  that  from  my  isolated 
corner  could  reach  the  eye,  seemed  to  indicate  the 
early  approach  of  Spring. 

We  hurried  on  apace,  our  iron-horse  seeming  to 
gain  increased  vigor  as  he  puffed  and  snuffed  the 
fresh  north  breeze,  while  I  sat  quietly  indulging  in 
the  anticipations  of  sweet  flowers  and  singing  birds. 
After  passing  the  good  old  town  of  Concord,  some 
twenty  miles  on  our  journey,  ever  and  anon  there 
began  to  appear  long,  narrow,  white  banks,  half 
hidden  from  view  by  the  field  fence,  or  gracefully 
encircling  the  woodland  skirt,  as  if  stern  old  Winter 
was  still  lingering,  quite  unwilling  to  take  his  final 
farewell. 

As  we  passed  further  on,  the  white  banks  became 
more  frequent,  and  of  increased  magnitude,  till  only 
here  and  there  were  to  be  seen  small  hillocks, 
occasionally  peeping  from  their  winter  bed,  looking 
for  all  the  world  like  so  many  little  islands  dotting 
the  broad  expanse  of  ocean. 

When  we  had  proceeded  so  far  northward  as  to 
bring  to  view  the  venerated  Monadnoc,  all  vestige 
of  earth  had  disappeared,  and  we  were  literally  out 


204 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


of  sight  of  land.  However,  nothing  daunted,  we 
ploughed  our  way  along  through  the  banks  of  snow 
until  we  arrived  safely  at  the  quiet  little  village  o£ 
Bellows  Falls,  Vermont,  at  about  half  past  twelve 
o’clock  p.  m.,  at  which  place  my  car  ride  was  at  an 
end.  J 

i 

This  village,  which  lies  just  above  Walpole, 

N.  H.,  on  the  Vermont  side  of <  the  Connecticut 
River,  and  which  was  named  partly  from  an  old 
Indian  hunter,  who  flourished  among  the  early  set¬ 
tlers  of  Walpole,  and  partly  from  the  beautiful  falls 
in  the  river  at  that  point,  was  some  years  ago  se¬ 
lected  as  a  site  for  an  extensive  cotton  manufactory ; 
but  in  consequence  of  unforeseen  reverses,  which 
occurred  soon  after,  the  enterprise  was  abandoned,  I 
and  the  large  foundations  then  commenced  still 
remain  uncovered. 

The  falls  in  the  river  when  the  water  is  high, 
present  a  scene  of  much  grandeur  and  interest; 
but  at  the  time  of  my  visit,  the  water  being  low, 
little  was  to  be  seen  but  a  mass  of  ragged  rocks 
partially  covered  with  snow  and  ice. 

At  this  place  I  took  some  refreshments  with  the 
obliging  landlord  of  the  Island  House,  and  made 
preparations  to  take  the  stage  for  a  nice  snug 
village  up  among  the  hills  about  twelve  miles  to  the 
eastward.  ?  ] 

“  Stage  ready”  said  a  sharp  but  good-natured 
voice ;  and  fearing  I  was  about  to  lose  my  chance,  [J 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


205 


I  dove  through  the  open  door  of  the  hotel,  from 
whence  the  voice  came,  and  was  speedily  ushered 
aboard  the  aforesaid  ready  vehicle  before  I  was 
fully  aware  of  my  exact  whereabouts. 

On  looking  about  me  to  define  my  position  (as 
politicians  would  say),  I  found  myself  not  a  lone 
tenant  of  the  vehicle,  three  ladies  having  secured 
'preemption  rights  before  my  arrival.  One  was  a 
lady  of  mature  age,  small  stature,  thin  face,  sharp 
nose,  and  gold-bowed  spectacles.  The  second  was 
a  small  woman,  in  dark  dress,  but  so  closely  veiled 
I  could  not  distinguish  her  features.  The  third  was 
a  large-featured,  blue-eyed,  rosy-cheeked  lass  of 
some  twenty  summers,  with  a  fine  pearly  set  of 
teeth,  looking  as  if  she  could  enjoy  life  in  the  fresh 
air,  and  apparently  as  full  of  fun  as  an  egg  is  of 
meat.  The  rest  of  our  freight  consisted  of  some 
kegs  of  oysters,  boxes,  trunks,  bundles,  bandboxes, 
a  bag  of  oats,  buffalo  robes,  blankets  and  straw. 
And  then  the  stage ,  —  none  but  a  backwoodsman 
would  have  recognized  the  thing  by  the  name ;  and, 
familiar  as  I  once  was  with  country  travelling,  under 
any  other  circumstances,  I  should  have  been  puz¬ 
zled  to  know  if  I  were  not  in  the  wrong  box. 

The  stage  consisted  of  two  strips  of  timber  about 
ten  feet  long,  turned  up  at  the  front  end.  These 
runners  were  about  four  feet  apart,  and  connected 
by  strong  wood  beams,  the  ends  projecting  outside 
the  runners,  and  fastened  at  each  end  by  strong 


206 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


oak  pins.  On  top  of  these  beams  was  a  stout 
board  box,  about  eight  feet  long  by  four  feet  wide, 
and  two  feet  deep,  and  secured  by  stakes  inserted 
in  the  ends  of  the  projecting  beams,  the  stakes 
reaching  about  four  inches  above  the  top  edge  of 
the  box.  There  were  two  old-fashioned  high-back 
chairs  in  the  bind  part  of  the  box,  and  two  other 
seats  consisting  of  strips  of  board  laid  crosswise 
with  a  bole  at  either  end  to  receive  the  projecting 
stakes. 

The  team  attached  to  the  stage  was  a  fine  pair 
of  bay  horses,  bitched  on  tandem ,  or  one  before  the 
other,  —  and  our  stage  was  complete.  I  have 
been  thus  particular  in  giving  a  description,  as  it 
was  an  institution  to  which  I  was  about  to  submit 
my  life ,  if  not  my  fortune  and  sacred  honor.  My 
observations  were  made  while  the  driver  was 
politely  arranging  the  buffaloes  and  blankets  for 
the  comfort  of  the  ladies. 

66  Driver,”  said  I,  “  will  you  please  give  me  an 
outside  seat  ]  Inside  of  a  stage  makes  me  sick ; 
’t  is  a  very  unpleasant  sensation,  you  know  ]  ” 

44  Certainly,  certainly  ;  take  your  choice  of  seats, 
sir ;  only  accommodate  the  ladies.” 

66  Thank  you,  sir,”  said  I.  And  as  the  rear  seats 
were  occupied  by  the  two  elderly  ladies,  the  next 
by  the  fair-cheeked  funny  damsel,  whose  ponderous 
hoop-skirt  projected  on  either  side  the  stage,  and 
the  only  remaining  seat  seeming  to  be  reserved  for 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


207 


the  driver,  I  thought  my  best  chance  was  on  the 
bag  of  oats  just  under  the  lee  of  the  hoop-skirt, 
and  there  I  resolved  to  make  my  debut  in  the  com¬ 
ing  performance. 

“  All  aboard  !  ”  cried  the  driver  (although  there 
was  no  other  person  in  sight) ;  and  springing 
on  to  the  front  seat,  with  reins  in  hand,  he  twirled 
around  and  above  his  head  a  long  heavy  whip 
which  ended  in  a  crack,  that  not  only  hoisted  me 
four  inches  from  my  bag  of  oats,  but  also  every 
foot  of  the  fine  bay  ponies  from  their  underpinning. 

The  sudden  start  elicited  a  groan  from  the  ladies 
on  the  rear  seat,  a  tee-he  from  her  in  the  big  hoops, 
and  we  were  off  at  a  speed  that  would  have  done 
credit  to  the  most  approved  locomotive. 

I  believe  I  have  given  a  pretty  correct  account 
of  our  travelling  establishment,  all  but  the  super¬ 
intendent,  and  I  now  had  a  chance  to  look  at  him. 
He  was  no  inconsiderable  personage  in  our  enter¬ 
prise,  as  the  safety  of  our  whole  corporation  was 
entrusted  to  his  hands. 

Well,  he  was  a  man  about  fifty  years  of  age, 
medium  size,  broad  shoulders,  large  head,  covered 
with  a  profusion  of  bushy  red  hair,  whiskers  of  the 
same  color,  with  a  peculiar  formed  nose,  and 
mouth  that  seemed  to  indicate  that  his  eye-teeth 
had  been  cut.  His  broad,  good-natured  face  was 
well  covered  with  freckles,  and  his  twinkling  gray 
eye  denoted  much  good  humor. 


208 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


“  Driver,”  said  I,  “  you  need  not  hold  in  them 
animals  on  our  account.  I  reckon  we  can  ride  as 
fast  as  you  can  drive.” 

“  I  think  so  too,”  said  the  passenger  on  the  mid¬ 
dle  seat. 

“Don’t  be  too  confident,”  said  the  driver.  “Dis¬ 
appointment  lurks  in  many  a  prize.”  And  his 
prediction  proved  but  too  true,  for  we  had  pro¬ 
ceeded  but  a  few  hundred  yards  before  we  got 
spilled  out ,  and  left  some  distance  behind. 

Our  road  lay  through  a  hollow,  winding  about 
between  high  hills  on  either  side,  and  consisted 
mostly  of  a  narrow  canal  dug  out  through  ponder¬ 
ous  banks  of  snow,  shoulder  high  in  many  places. 
This  canal  was  only  wide  enough  for  one  team  to 
pass,  which  made  turning  out  very  difficult.  In 
some  places  it  was  necessary  to  dig  into  the  deep 
banks  at  the  side,  where  one  team  could  switch  off 
for  another  to  pass,  and  sometimes  advantage  could 
be  taken  of  a  little  rise  where  the  snow  was  not 
so  deep ;  but  in  all  directions  the  crust  on  the  top 
of  the  snow  was  of  sufficient  strength  to  bear  a 
man. 

It  was  at  one  of  these  turn-outs  that  our  accident 
occurred,  and  to  us  it  proved  a  turn-out  in  a  double 
sense. 

Our  driver,  on  arriving  at  one  of  these  points, 
had  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  to  let  another 
team  pass,  and  our  tandem  team  being  in  high  life, 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


209 


and  not  easily  managed,  sprang  back  upon  the 
main  track  in  such  a  manner  as  to  separate  our 
stagebox  from  the  running  part,  and  in  the  twink¬ 
ling  of  an  eye  we  found  ourselves  in  an  inverted 
position.  To  add  to  our  misfortune,  this  turn-out 
had  been  chosen  on  the  top  of  a  little  rise,  where  the 
snow  was  not  so  deep  ;  it  was  also  just  at  the  turn 
of  the  road,  and  the  consequence  was,  that  we 
inside  passengers ,  found  ourselves  with  any  quantity 
of  lumber,  baggage,  and  straw,  making  rapid  prog¬ 
ress  down  a  little  precipice,  and  all  at  once  and 
all  together  bringing  up  against  a  fence  at  the  foot, 
one  mixed,  heterogeneous  mass.  By  hokey  !  what  a 
mess !  True  to  nature,  my  first  thought  was  for 
myself,  and  after  several  severe  struggles  I  found 
myself  right  end  up,  unhurt.  Next  for  the  ladies. 
The  first  two  who  sat  upon  the  back  seat  had  at 
first  start  toppled  over  backwards,  and  lay  kicking 
among  the  blankets  and  buffalo  robes  wrapped 
about  them.  But  where  was  the  lady  in  hoops? 
Under  the  ruins,  surely,  and  I  dove  for  the  pile ; 
but  before  proceeding  far  in  my  efforts,  I  espied  on 
the  further  side  from  me  something  in  the  form  of 
a  huge  umbrella,  that  had  been  turned  inside  out 
by  a  gust  of  wind,  and  was  swinging  to  and  fro  in 
the  breeze  like  an  inflated  balloon  endeavoring  to 
escape  from  its  moorings.  I  sprang  to  the  spot, 
and  peeped  in  at  the  top.  Gracious  heavens ! 

there  was  a  head  in  it !  As  I  was  about  to  reach 

18* 


210 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


in  and  part  the  ringlets  that  hid  the  features,  a 
small  voice  saluted  my  ear,  saying,  “  Help  me  out !  ” 
This  was  one  end  of  our  rosy-cheeked  passenger ; 
the  rest  was  under  the  rubbish,  and  with  some  diffi¬ 
culty  she  was  at  length  rescued  from  her  unpleas¬ 
ant  position. 

After  a  few  inquiries,  we  passengers,  to  our 
inexpressible  joy,  found  we  were  all  present  and 
uninjured.  But  where  was  the  team  and  the 
driver  %  Not  in  sight.  However,  in  a  few  moments 
both  made  their  appearance,  together  with  the  run¬ 
ning  part  of  our  stage.  When  the  stage-box,  with 
its  contents,  had  left  its  foundation,  our  driver  with 
the  team  and  what  of  the  stage  remained  attached 
to  the  horses,  had  disappeared  around  a  curve  in 
the  road. 

“  Well,”  said  he,  “  thought  you  could  ride  as 
fast  as  I  could  drive.” 

“  Blast  your  red  whiskers  !  ”  said  I,  half  inclined 
to  think  it  was  no  accident.  The  lady  in  hoops 
nodded  assent. 

After  some  delay,  we  succeeded  in  arranging  our 
furniture  ;  and  our  stage  again  being  ready ,  and  we 
“  all  aboard,”  we  again  took  a  fresh  start  on  our 
journey. 

The  lady  passengers  all  left  at  the  next  village, 
and  I  being  the  only  inside  passenger,  had  ample 
time  to  reflect  on  the  uncertainty  of  all  sublunary 
things  in  general,  and  of  tandem-team  staging  in 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


211 


particular.  However,  we  pursued  our  journey 
without  further  accident,  and  about  sunset  we 
reached  a  thriving  little  village  up  among  the  hills 
of  New  Hampshire,  where  lies  the  homestead  of 
my  good  old  father,  and  where  I  was  greeted  with 
a  hearty  welcome. 

After  enjoying  a  night  of  refreshing  sleep  I 
arose  with  the  sun,  and  sallied  out  to  get  a  snuff 
of  the  fresh  country  air  and  take  a  look.  I  had 
not  visited  my  native  hills  in  winter  for  twenty 
years,  and  the  scene  now  presented  to  my  view 
was  novel  and  interesting  in  the  extreme.  On 
every  side,  and  at  every  point,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  the  surrounding  landscape  was  en¬ 
shrouded  in  one  continued  sheet  of  everlasting 
snow.  No  fence  appeared  to  mark  the  boundaries 
of  the  numerous  fields  that  lay  hidden  beneath  the 
frosty  deep,  and  nought  but  an  occasional  interven¬ 
ing  woodland,  and  now  and  then  a  human  dwell¬ 
ing,  appeared  to  break  the  sameness  of  this 
immense  transparent  sheet. 

The  bright,  warm  sun  was  shedding  its  rays 
obliquely  on  this  earth-bound  crest,  imparting  to 
the  broad  expanse  the  appearance  of  one  endless 
ocean  of  glittering  diamonds.  Who  could  look 
upon  that  scene  without  experiencing  emotions  of 
admiration  and  devotion  1  My  early  days  were 
passed  here  ;  then  a  like  exhibition  of  Nature’s 
handiwork  would  have  passed  my  notice  as  com- 


i 


212 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


monplace.  Then,  at  the  return  of  each  season  X 
witnessed  their  beauties  and  enjoyed  their  sports 
with  my  companions  ;  but  a  lapse  of  twenty  years 
had  wrought  a  change,  not  in  the  landscape,  but 
in  me. 

Those  who  were  my  companions  then,  —  where 
are  they  ?  Some  are  scattered  to  the  four  quarters 
of  the  globe,  and  many  are  sleeping  in  the  tomb. 
X  myself  am  an  old  man,  and  another  generation 
now  occupies  the  place  once  occupied  by  me  and 
my  companions,  and  X  am  a  stranger  in  my  native 
village. 

Yet,  standing  here,  with  this  familiar  scene 
spread  before  me,  brings  to  my  heart  the  fond 
recollections  of  my  boyhood,  so  deep,  so  real;  and 
they  come  rushing  back  so  powerfully  as  to  fill  the 
depths  of  my  inmost  soul  with  all  their  freshness 
nnd  vigor. 

“  Am  X  not  a  boy  again?”  I  asked  myself,  as  I 
found  the  tears  stealing  down  my  care-worn  cheeks. 
u  These  very  tears  bear  me  witness  that  I  am  yet  a 
child.  True,  my  old  playmates  are  not  here,  but 
the  hills,  the  valleys,  the  river,  the  woodland,  the 
glittering  silver  landscape  are  here  as  they  were, 
and  the  beautiful  sun  is  still  shining  brightly  down 
on  them  all ;  and  although  twenty  years  have 
passed  since  X  last  stood  here,  it  seems  but  yester¬ 
day.” 

X  trust  X  never  was  prone  to  murmur  at  the  in- 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


213 


scrutable  ways  of  Divine  Providence,  but  have  ever 
felt  it  a  duty,  as  well  as  a  privilege,  to  improve  and 
enjoy  the  blessings  so  bountifully  bestowed  upon 
us  by  that  infinite  Source  of  all  good.  And  as  I 
stood  gazing  upon  the  summit  of  the  crest-bound 
hill  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  the  field  of 
many  a  day’s  sport  when  I  was  young,  I  involunta¬ 
rily  exclaimed,  “  Young  or  old,  if  I  live,  I  ’ll  have 
a  coast.” 

I  prolonged  my  morning  walk  till  a  late  hour, 
and  returned  with  a  keen  appetite,  and  fancy  that 
I  did  ample  justice  to  a  bountifully-spread  table  in 
the  breakfast-room  of  my  good  old  father. 

After  arranging  some  business  I  had  in  the  vil¬ 
lage,  I  wended  my  way  up  a  steep  hillside,  on  the 
summit  of  which  stood  a  venerable  farmhouse, 
for  the  double  purpose  of  shaking  hands  with 
some  old  acquaintances  I  thought  I  might  find 
there,  and  also  to  find  some  one  to  assist  me  in  . 
carrying  out  my  morning’s  resolution.  Nor  was  I 
disappointed  in  my  calculations,  for  on  entering 
the  door  of  that  familiar  old  dwelling,  “  the  latch¬ 
string  of  which  was  ever  on  the  outside,”  I  was 
greeted  with  the  smiles  of  a  dozen  familiar  faces, 
who  with  open  hearts  and  extended  hands  bade  me 
welcome. 

“  Just  in  time,”  said  half-a-dozen  voices  ;  and  so 
indeed  I  was  just  in  time  to  make  one  of  a  most 
happy  and  interesting  maple-sugar  party,  known 


214 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


only  to  those  localities  where  the  sugar  maple-tree 
grows.  And  a  glorious  time  we  had  of  it  too,  —  a 
time  that  I  had  coveted  on  many  a  returning 
spring  since  I  had  left  my  native  hills,  but  a  luxury 
that  had  this  time  escaped  my  anticipations,  so 
intent  had  I  been  in  the  thought  of  a  boyish  coast. 

After  we  had  enjoyed  a  feast  of  warm  maple 
sugar,  and  I  had  been  asked  and  answered  ten 
thousand  questions,  I  carelessly  remarked  what  an 
excellent  opportunity  the  young  people  in  the 
country  have  for  coasting,  adding,  that  where  I  lived, 
such  chances  would  afford  rare  sport  for  young 
and  old  of  both  sexes.  This  was  enough ;  the  bait 
had  taken  beyond  my  highest  expectations ;  and 
before  I  had  time  to  put  a  serious  face  on  the 
matter,  I  had  received  half  a  dozen  challenges  from 
as  many  roguish  little  nymphs  to  go  out  and  slide. 
One  little  minx,  not  yet  out  of  her  teens,  came  for¬ 
ward  and  said,  “  I  gueth  you  dathent  ride  with  me, 
thir,  down  that  stheep  hill  by  the  suthgar  houth.” 
This  was  a  challenge  I  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to 
refuse,  and  I  said  I  dared  To  ride  anywhere  that 
any  young  lady  dared  to  ride,  and  I  would,  too,  if 
it  broke  my  neck,  —  although,  I  must  confess,  I 
had  my  misgivings. 

In  a  short  time  all  the  available  rolling  stock  of 
the  coasting  company  was  in  readiness,  and  all  the 
stockholders  and  their  guests  were  off  to  the  coast¬ 
ing  grounds,  for  a  trial  of  speed. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


215 


Reader,  did  you  ever  participate  in  a  regular 
country  coasting  expedition,  where  the  hillsides 
descend  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees,  and  as 
much  steeper  as  you  desire,  all  covered  with  the 
pure  white  snow,  the  surface  hard  enough  to  bear 
up  an  ox  team,  and  as  smooth  and  as  slippery  as 
the  purest  of  glass  1  —  where  you  can  select  a  track 
of  any  length  you  choose,  on  which  you  can  skim 
off  with  lightning  speed  into  the  long,  deep  valley 
a  mile  away ;  or  where,  by  a  circuitous  course,  you 
can  wind  around  among  the  hills  with  your  wooden 
horse,  carefully  guided  by  first  one  foot,  then  the 
other,  till  you  arrive  back  almost  to  your  first  start¬ 
ing-point,  where  you  can  again  commence  the  jour¬ 
ney  anew?  —  where  red  noses,  rosy  cheeks,  bright, 
roguish  eyes,  and  long  flowing  ringlets  dot  the  hil¬ 
locks  as  plenty  as  blackberries  in  August  ?  —  where 
little  wooden  clippers,  whose  capacity  is  extended 
by  the  addition  of  a  board  projecting  behind, 
loaded  to  their  utmost  with  merry  life,  are  shooting 
down  the  giddy  steep  with  the  swiftness  of  an 
arrow,  perhaps  occasionally  dropping  a  little  lump 
of  humanity,  that,  in  spite  of  itself,  tips  end  over 
end  till  it  brings  up  at  some  convenient  stopping- 
place? —  or,  mayhap,  the  bark,  misguided  by  some 
inexperienced  foot ,  leaps  over  some  miniature  preci¬ 
pice  and  lands  its  precious  burden  at  the  bottom  ?  — 
where  calico,  satinet,  caps,  hoods,  mufflers,  shawls, 
tidies,  leggings,  cloaks,  ringlets,  big  hoots,  heads, 


216 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


arms,  feet,  shins,  and  bodies  are  completely  mixed 
np  in  the  most  incomprehensible  and  ludicrous 
confusion  ?  —  where  the  loud,  merry  laugh  rings 
out  from  a  score  of  healthy  lungs  from  amid  the 
throng  of  reckless  adventurers  ? 

Header,  did  I  hear  you  say  that  you  had  partici¬ 
pated  in  these  invigorating,  soul-stirring  exercises  ? 
If  you  have,  I  need  not  attempt  to  picture  to  you 
the  pleasures  and  enjoyments  of  my  coasting  ex¬ 
perience  on  that  day.  If  you  have  not,  any  attempt 
of  mine  to  enlighten  you  on  the  subject  will  be 
fruitless,  for  pen,  language,  or  imagination,  even,  is 
quite  incompetent  to  the  task. 

After  enjoying  my  coast  and  completing  my  busi¬ 
ness  transactions,  I  took  leave  of  my  friends  and 
returned  to  my  family  and  business  in  the  city  ; 
and  if  I  am  really  no  younger  or  better,  I  fully  be¬ 
lieve  I  am,  at  least,  no  worse  for  my  trip  among  the 
snowbanks. 


COMMERCIAL  STREET  FIRE. 


The  24th  of  February,  1862,  was  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  days  occurring  in  our  latitude, 
and  one  long  to  be  remembered  as  the  event  of 
Commercial  Street  fire,  which  in  a  few  hours 
swept  away  several  millions  of  property. 

In  the  morning  came  a  thick  mist,  with  snow 
and  sleet,  which,  about  noon,  was  followed  with 
heavy  rain.  Early  in  the  afternoon  the  clouds 
broke  away,  and  it  was  quite  warm ;  but  later  the 
heavens  again  became  uncommonly  dark,  the  air 
exceedingly  close,  and  in  a  short  time  a  most  ter¬ 
rific  thunder-storm  burst  upon  the  city  and  coun¬ 
try  for  many  miles  around.  The  electric  fluid  in 
many  places  destroyed  considerable  property,  and 
in  several  instances  animal  and  human  life.  Just 
at  sundown  the  shower  ceased,  and  a  most  brilliant 
rainbow  appeared  in  the  east. 

Early  in  the  evening  the  wind  shifted  to  the 
northwest,  and  blew  a  gale,  and  the  snow  and  hail 
fell  in  avalanches  ;  the  wind  strewed  the  streets 
with  signs  and  window-blinds ;  chimneys  and 

19 


218 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


church  steeples  were  blown  down,  and  in  several 
instances  buildings  were  unroofed  and  much  dam¬ 
aged. 

About  ten  o’clock  in  the  evening,  while  the 
elements  seemed  to  be  struggling  in  the  wildest  com¬ 
motion,  all  at  once  the  whole  heavens  were  lighted 
up  in  one  lurid  glare.  In  a  few  moments  the 
alarm-bells  added  their  doleful  notes,  and  gave 
warning  that  the  dread  Fire  King  was  abroad  on 
the  wings  of  the  storm. 

The  scene  was  the  most  sublime,  the  most  feaT- 
fully  imposing,  my  eyes  ever  beheld.  A  fire  had 
broke  out  in  the  upper  story  of  Mathews  block,  a 
large  four-story  brick  and  stone  building,  facing  on 
North,  Clark,  and  Commercial  streets.  This  build¬ 
ing,  in  the  upper  stories,  was  occupied  for  the 
storage  of  cotton,  for  sailmaker’s  goods  and  other 
combustible  materials,  and  in  a  few  moments  the 
whole  block  at  the  top  was  wrapped  in  one  sheet 
of  flame.  The  firemen  and  a  large  force  of  police 
were  soon  on  the  ground,  the  former  to  extinguish 
the  flames,  and  the  latter  to  preserve  life  and 
property  ;  but  amid  this  terrible  wreck  of  elements 
human  power  and  greatness  sank  into  insignificance. 

The  block  was  so  high  that  the  most  powerful 
engine  could  not  throw  water  to  the  top,  and  the 
weather  had  become  exceedingly  cold,  the  mercury 
falling  from  twenty-eight  above  to  as  low  as  zero, 
in  about  two  hours.  Under  these  difficulties,  little 


r 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


219 


or  nothing  could  be  done  to  arrest  the  flames  in 
the  block,  and,  in  about  half  an  hour  from  the  dis¬ 
covery  of  the  fire,  the  walls  of  the  building  came 
tumbling  into  the  street. 

The  police  had  shut  off  the  streets  with  ropes, 
and  forced  back  the  great  numbers  of  persons  who 
had  collected  in  close  proximity  to  the  building, 
and,  unquestionably,  saved  many  lives. 

The  terrible  wind,  which  seemed  to  gain  new 
strength  as  the  fire  increased,  drove  the  flames 
across  Commercial  Street  into  a  stone  block  front¬ 
ing  on  Eastern  Avenue.  These  stores  were  also 
occupied  mostly  by  combustible  material,  among 
the  rest  an  extensive  linseed  oil  mill,  which  burnt 
with  terrific  fury,  and  this  whole  block  was 
soon  a  heap  of  ruins.  A  portion  of  the  block  on 
the  south  side  of  the  Avenue,  containing  a  large 
quantity  of  grain,  was  likewise  destroyed. 

The  wind  continued  to  blow  a  hurricane  ;  snow 
was  falling  in  an  avalanche  ;  boards,  shingles,  and 
cinders  were  flying  in  every  direction ;  tremen¬ 
dous  volumes  of  flame  and  smoke,  swayed  hither 
and  thither  by  the  tempest,  now  covered  the  ad¬ 
joining  building,  and  then,  swaying  over  in  an 
opposite  direction,  would  seem  to  swallow  up  the 
sea  of  spectators  that  filled  the  streets,  to  witness 
the  scene  ;  red-hot  columns  of  granite  were 
tumbling  into  the  street,  hissing  like  serpents 
as  they  fell  into  the  water,  that  was  nearly  knee 


220 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


deep.  The  loud  cries  of  the  firemen,  the  puffing 
and  shrieking  of  the  engines,  and  the  crashing  of 
falling  timbers,  all  combined  to  form  a  tableau 
rarely  witnessed. 

More  than  ten  hundred  thousand  dollars  worth 
of  property  was  destroyed.  Some  forty  families 
were  turned  homeless  into  the  street,  two  brave 
firemen  fell  victims  to  their  fearful  duties,  and 
the  morning  light  presented  to  the  view  one  vast 
heap  of  smouldering  ruins. 


\ 


WOMAN’S  REVENGE. 


One  evening  in  September,  1858,  an  intelligent- 
looking  young  lady  came  into  the  Station  House, 
saying  that  she  had  shot  a  man  in  North  Street, 
•  and>  slie  supposed,  had  killed  him  ;  desired  to  give 
herself  up  to  the  officers,  and  very  calmly  seated 
herself  and  told  me  the  circumstances. 

Her  story  was  the  oft-repeated  tale  of  seduction 
and  desertion.  The  man  she  had  shot  had  long 
been  her  suitor,  and,  under  a  solemn  promise  of 
marriage,  had  accomplished  her  ruin,  and  in  her 
misfortune  had  abandoned  her.  In  a  fit  of  desper¬ 
ation  she  had  procured  a  double-barrelled  pistol, 
which  she  had  loaded,  both  barrels,  with  powder  and 
ball  to  the  muzzle,  one  of  which  she  designed  for  her 
seducei ,  and  the  other  for  herself.  She  had  this 
evening  crossed  his  path,  and  as  he  passed  her  she 
shot  him  in  the  back.  The  charge  was  so  heavy 
that  the  woodwork  of  the  pistol  was  shattered  in 
splinters,  and  flew  from  her  hand ;  she  searched  for 
it,  and  as  people  came  running  to  the  spot  where 
the  wounded,  man  lay,  she  felt  that  she  would  soon 

19* 


222 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


be  arrested,  and  hastened  to  the  Station  House,  that 
the  officers  of  the  law  might  now  do  that  which 
she  had  intended  to  do  herself  had  she  retained  the 
other  barrel  of  the  pistol.  She  was  fearfully  calm, 
apparently  rational,  and  her  simple  narrative  bore 
the  evidence  of  truth,  and  excited  the  sympathy  of 
those  that  heard  it. 

When  she  first  came  in,  officers  were  sent  to  in¬ 
vestigate,  and  in  a  short  time  the  wounded  man  was 
brought  in,  faint  and  bloody,  and  physicians  im¬ 
mediately  summoned.  The  ball  was  found  to  have 
entered  the  back,  just  under  the  left  shoulder-blade, 
proceeding  upward,  so  that  it  had  not  reached  the 
vitals.  The  pistol  was  discharged  just  as  he  was 
stepping  from  the  crossing  on  to  the  sidewalk ;  he 
was  stooping  a  little  as  he  raised  himself  up,  which 
probably  saved  his  life.  The  ball  could  not  be  ex¬ 
tracted,  but  his  wound  was  dressed,  and  he  was 
conveyed  home.  The  pistol  was  found,  and  is  now 
in  my  cabinet. 

When  the  case  came  before  the  Grand  Jury,  I 
took  good  care  that  all  the  facts  of  the  case  were 
made  known.  The  jury  found  no  bill,  and  the 
poor  girl  was  discharged.  She,  with  her  offspring, 
are  now  sheltered  by  the  roof  of  a  kind  father,  and 
the  wounded  author,  of  her  sorrow  now  moves  in 
respectable  society ;  but  he  will  carry  that  leaden 
memento  of  his  perfidy  with  him  to  his  grave. 


MECHANICAL  BAKERY  FIRE. 


On  the  night  of  February  5,  1859,  at  11  o’clock, 
a  fire  occurred  on  Commercial,  between  Bat¬ 
tery  and  Salutation  streets,  entirely  destroying  a 
large  building  recently  erected  and  furnished  for 
a  Mechanical  Steam  Bakery.  The  building  was  of 
brick,  with  a  granite  front,  six  stories  high,  and 
extending  back  from  Commercial  Street  some  one 
hundred  and  twenty  feet  in  depth,  the  front  ex¬ 
tending  the  entire  length  from  Battery  to  Saluta¬ 
tion  Street,  having  been  furnished  with  the  most 
complete  apparatus  sufficient  to  make  five  hundred4 
barrels  of  flour  into  bread  daily.  This  establish¬ 
ment,  together  with  several  dwellings  on  Battery 
and  on  Salutation  Street,  was  totally  destroyed. 

Several  persons  were  severely  injured  by  the 
falling  of  the  crumbling  walls  of  the  bakery,  before 
they  could  escape  from  their  dwelling.  One  old 
man,  who  was  too  infirm  to  walk,  was  buried  in 
the  ruins  of  his  house,  but  was  finally  rescued  by 
the  police  and  citizens,  and  conveyed  to  the  hos¬ 
pital.  Several  were  forcibly  removed  from  their 
dwellings  on  Commercial  Street,  a  captain  of  police 


224 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


actually  carrying  out  by  main  strength  an  old  lady 
weighing  near  two  hundred  pounds,  very  much 
against  her  will.  She  had  barricaded  her  door  on 
the  inside,  to  keep  the  thieves  from  carrying  off 
her  little  stock  of  furniture,  and  when  told  that  her 
life  was  in  danger,  she  replied,  “  It  is  all  bpsh  that 
ye  tell  me ;  has  not  me  landlord  repeatedly  told 
me  that  the  house  was  insured  ?  ”  But  before  she 
had  been  three  minutes  from  beneath  the  roof,  a 
falling  wall  from  the  bakery  levelled  every  timber 
to  the  foundation. 

The  front  granite  wrall  of  the  bakery  remained 

standing  till  the  end  walls  had  mostly  crumbled 

down,  when  the  police  made  an  effort  to  clear  the 

Square  in  front.  This  was  not  accomplished  till 

we  procured  two  long  ropes,  well  manned,  and 

commencing  in  the  centre,  we  forced  back  the 

crowd  each  way,  both  down  and  up  Commercial 

Street,  which,  amid  loud  oaths  and  imprecations 

from  the  spectators,  was  accomplished  with  no 

little  difficulty.  The  Square,  however,  had  not 

been  cleared  ten  minutes,  when  the  whole  six- 

story  stone  front  fell  broadside  into  the  street,  and 

the  space  which  wTas  now  covered  with  a  huge 

mass  of  broken  granite,  ten  minutes  before  was 

occupied  by  at  least  five  hundred  human  beings, 

who,  had  they  not  been  removed,  would  have  been 

• 

crushed  to  atoms.  As  it  was,  no  one  was  injured, 
save  one  man,  who  had  his  leg  broken  by  a  stone, 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


225 


while  standing  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  at 
Battery  wharf. 

After  the  fall  of  this  wall,  no  more  complaint 
was  heard  about  the  interference  of  the  police. 

It  would  be  well  for  spectators  at  a  tire  to  re¬ 
member  that  the  falling  of  a  stone  wall  of  a  burn¬ 
ing  building  is  very  different  from  a  brick  one;  the 
latter  comes  crumbling  down,  while  the  former 
almost  invariably  falls  by  a  broadside,  like  a  plank 
reared  on  one  end,  and  a  respectful  distance  is 
much  the  safer  place. 

The  loss  by  the  Mechanical  Bakery  fire  was  es¬ 
timated  at  $100,000  ;  but  the  limits  of  devastation 
weie  most  efficiently  prescribed  by  the  brave  fire¬ 
men,  and  many  lives  were  saved  by  the  prompt 
and  energetic  action  of  the  police. 


'THE  LOST  TREASURE. 


One  day  in  July,  1858,  an  interesting,  dark-eyed 
girl  of  some  fifteen  summers  came  into  the  Station 
House,  inquired  for  me,  and  told  me  her  story. 
Her  father  was  a  mechanic,  and  had  resided  at  the 
North  End  many  years ;  his  business  becoming 
dull,  he  was  unable  to  get  employment,  and,  as  a 
last  resort,  he  had  enlisted  in  the  .  Navy,  to  obtain 
means  to  keep  his  wife  and  family  from  the  alms¬ 
house.  He  had  been  gone  eight  months,  leaving 
his  family  in  a  small  tenement  in  a  place  leading 
out  of  Snowhill  Street. 

A  few  days  since,  he  sent  home  a  draft  on  a  firm 
in  the  city  for  his  wages,  and  to-day,  herself  and 
little  brother  procured  a  check  and  drew  from  one 
of  the  hanks  in  the  city,  some  ninety  dollars.  They 
took  the  money,  and  with  light  steps  and  merry 
hearts  started  for  home  with  their  treasure,  to  pay 
up  their  bills  and  to  procure  the  necessaries  of  life  for 
themselves  and  their  mother,  she  being  confined  to 
a  bed  of  sickness,  from  which  it  was  then  probable 
she  would  never  rise. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


227 


On  ai living  home  the  money  was  missing ;  it 
had  been  lost  on  the  way,  and  it  was  their  all. 
The  children  immediately  retraced  their  steps,  and 
made  diligent  search  ;  but  the  money  could  not  be 
found.  They  were  advised  to  come  to  the  Station 
House,  and  report  the  loss.  When  she  had  told 
her  story,  the  big  tears  came  stealing  down  her 
cheeks,  and  with  a  tone  of  anguish  that  would 
have  reached  harder  hearts  than  mine,  she  ex¬ 
claimed  :  — 

Oh,  my  poor  mother !  Can  you,  sir,  do  any¬ 
thing  for  us  ?  ” 

I  said  I  would  try.  I  immediately  sent  out  two 
trusty  officers,  with  directions  to  make  every  effort 
within  their  reach  to  recover  the  money  ;  but  their 
most  untiling  efforts  were  fruitless.  I  next  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  Court  Square,  where,  on  the  first  corner, 

I  found  a  group  of  good-fellows,  familiarly  known 
as  Reporters ,  whose  ears  are  ever  open  for  an  item, 
and  whose  hearts  are  ever  alive  with  interest  and 
sympathy  for  the  unfortunate,  and  to  them  related 
the  story.  With  the  characteristic  generosity  of 
the  craft,  there  came  out  in  the  evening  papers  a 
prominent  notice  of  the  loss. 

About  half  an  hour  after  the  five  o’clock  edition 
had  been  circulated  about  the  city,  an  Irish  gentle¬ 
man  came  into  the  Station  House  with  paper  in 
hand,  and  pointing  to  the  notice,  he  said,  “  I  have 
found  that  money,  and  here  it  is.  Will  you  please 


228 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


take  care  of  it,  sir  \  ”  placing  a  roll  of  bills  in  my 
hand. 

I  looked  at  the  money,  and  it  was  all  there.  It 

had  been  dropped  on  Salem  Street,  and  picked  up 

• 

by  this  honest,  kind-hearted  gentleman,  and  was 
safe.  We  immediately  proceeded  to  the  residence 
of  its  owner ;  there,  on  the  fourth  floor  of  a  ten¬ 
ement,  in  a  small  .but  neat  room,  we  found  the 
sick  mother,  pale  and  haggard ;  and  there,  too, 
were  her  children  gathered  about  her.  When  we 
entered  not  a  word  was  spoken,  but  sorrow  and 
disappointment  marked  every  feature  in  that  little 
group.  I  went  to  the  bedside  of  the  mother,  and 
told  her  that  her  treasure  had  been  found  by  the 
gentleman  with  me,  and  we  had  brought  it  to  her. 
She  reached  forth  her  emaciated  hand  and  took  it 
from  mine,  and  the  little  ones  drew  closer  about 
her  bedside.  Not  a  word  was  yet  spoken  by 
them,  but  the  moistened  eyelids  and  expressions  of 
thankfulness  resting  upon  the  countenances  of  that 
little  party,  spoke  in  volumes  that  words  could  not 
impart. 

For  many  years  I  had  been  accustomed  to  wit¬ 
ness  scenes  of  misery  in  almost  every  form,  and  I 
had  supposed  my  own  heart  had  become  hardened 
by  the  frequent  repetition  ;  but  I  came  away  from 
that  house  involuntarily  wiping  the  tears  from  my 
own  eyes. 


MY  OLD  GEAY  CAT. 


I  find  the  following  among  my  records  of  Police 
Eecollections.  It  is,  perhaps,  a  little  out  of  place, 
but  it  is  so  true,  and  it  calls  up  in  my  heart  the 
recollections  of  other  days  in  such  deep  emotion, 
that  I  hope  to  be  pardoned  for  recording  it  here. 

June  17,  1864.  I  have  a  pet  cat,  who  has  eaten 
of  the  crumbs  of  my  table,  this  day,  seventeen 
years.  He  is  an  old  fellow,  —  not  a  tooth  in  his 
head  this  many  a  year,  —  yet  he  is  as  fat  and  sleek, 
as  lively  and  playful,  as  when  a  kitten.  He  is,  in 
fact,  rather  a  curious  old  fellow  for  a  cat,  and  I 

often  think  that  he  really  knows  more  than  he  will 
tell.  -  t :  . 

After  the  close  of  my  day’s  labor,  no  sooner  does 
my  footstep  reach  the  threshold,  than  he  is  at  the 
door  to  welcome  my  entrance  with  a  pert  or  a  mew. 
If  I  am  in  the  house,  he  is  uneasy  unless  he  is  with 
me,  and  hardly  any  closed  door  i&  proof  against 
his  handy  paws  till  he  reaches  me  ;  and  then  the 
antics  and  pranks  that  he  will  cut  are  anything  but 
what  would  be  expected  of  an  old  cat. 

2Q 


230 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


I  sometimes  think  that  many  of  his  notions  ‘ 
appear  more  like  calculation  than  instinct.  Often, 
when  about  to  leave  the  house,  have  I  found  his 
long  crooked  claws  inserted  in  my  coat-tail,  or 
deeply  imbedded  in  the  leg  of  my  pants,  endeav¬ 
oring  with  all  his  might  to  prevent  my  egress,  as 
if  to  say,  “  Don  t  go  yet 

He  is  hut  an  old  gray  cat,  but  he  has  followed 
me,  and  shared  my  varied  fortunes,  for  seventeen 
years.  He  is  but  an  old  gray  cat,  but  he  was  a 
special  favorite  with  dear  and  loved  ones  who  now 
lie  mouldering  in  the  tomb.  In  his  early  life  his 
friends  were  my  friends  ;  but  among  them  there  are 
now  none  left ,  —  no ,  not  one  !  He  seems  to  be  the 
only  living  link  that  binds  me  so  tenderly  to  those 
who  have  left  me  to  battle  the  ills  of  life  alone  ; 
and  often,  while  looking  at  him,  I  find  the  big  hot 
tears  stealing  unwittingly  down  my  furrowed 
cheeks,  as  memory  wanders  o’er  the  scenes  of  other 
days.  • 

He  is  but  an  old  gray  cat,  hut  why  should  I  not 
care  for  him  in  the  wane  of  life  ?  He  will  die  one 
of  these  days,  —  and  so  shall  I. 


CHURCH  BOBBERY. 


As  I  was  about  to  leave  tbe  Office  one  evening*, 
a  gentleman  came  in  and  inquired  for  an  officer. 
He  was  a  tall,  straight,  well-built  man,  with  a 
large  round  head,  the  moral  and  intellectual  well 
developed,  rather  sharp  features,  quick,  pleasant 
eye,  that  did  not  seem  to  evade  your  own ;  his 
hands  and  countenance  indicating  an  indoor  life,  his 
whole  bearing  bespeaking  the  perfect  gentleman. 

I  at  once  saw  that  he  was  no  ordinary  customer, 
so  I  invited  him  to  take  a  seat,  and  gave  him  my 
whole  attention.  After  looking  at  me  a  moment 
in  quite  a  familiar,  but  rather  ludicrous  manner,  he 
laughed,  without  uttering  a  word.  Was  the  man 
insane  ?  No  ;  the  intelligence  and  self-possession 
shining  out  in  that  blue  eye  could  not  be  mistaken ; 
he  was  not  insane,  neither  was  he  a  rogue  nor  a  fool. 

After  waiting  what  seemed  to  me  a  long  time, 
(each  of  us  looking  the  other  square  in  the  face,) 
finding  he  still  hesitated,  at  last  I  said — 

“  Well,  sir,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  ” 


232 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


% 


“  Well,  sir,”  said  he,  in  a  rich,  mellow  voice,  “  I 
have  called  on  rather  a  curious  errand.  I  am 

Mr.  - ,  the  Rector  of  -  Church,  and 

to-day  being  Good  Friday ,  a  collection  was  taken 
up  for  charitable  purposes  in  my  church,  which 
probably  amounted  to  some  two  hundred  dollars, 
for  my  people  are  wealthy  and  liberal,  .  That 
money,  sir,  has  been  stolen  from  us,  and  in  a  man¬ 
ner  which  appears  so  ludicrous  —  (and  the  novelty 
of  the  thing  getting  the  advantage  of  his  dignity, 
he  laughed  outright,)  —  excuse  me,”  said  he,  “  but 
the  thing  is  so  queer !  ” 

66  A  till  thief,  of  the  first  water,”  thought  I,  run¬ 
ning  over  in  my  mind  the  whole  catalogue  of  that 
branch  of  the  profession,  wondering  who  among 
them  all  was  mean  enough  to  rob  a  contribution-box. 
“  Please  tell  me  all  the  circumstances,”  said  I. 

“  I  can  tell  you  very  little  of  my  own  knowl¬ 
edge,”  said  lne,  “  except  that  the  money  was  col¬ 
lected,  and  is  gone  ;  but,  as  I  have  it  from  my 
people,  it  was  this  way  :  As  usual,  on  Good  Fri¬ 
day ,  the  collection  was  taken  up  by  six  messengers. 
After  passing  through  the  house,  the  boxes  con¬ 
taining  the  contributions  were  placed  on  the 
chancel  rail  till  the  close  of  the  service,  all  but  the 
one  passed  by  the  messenger  in  the  gallery.  At 
the  close  of  the  meeting,  while  all  were  busily 
engaged,  some  in  making  their  egress  from  the 
house,  and  others  in  stopping  a  moment  to  speak 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


233 


with,  a  friend,  some  one  walked  up  to  the  chancel 
rail  and  deliberately  emptied  the  contents  of  the 
boxes  into  his  own  pocket.  I  was  in  the  robe- 
room  at  the  time,”  said  he,  “  and  distinctly  recol¬ 
lect  hearing  the  change  chink  as  it  was  turned  out 
of  the  boxes.  The  young  sexton  came  down  from 
the  gallery  at  the  time,  and  haying  no  suspicion  of 
wrong,  also  emptied  his  box  into  the  same  pocket 
with  the  rest ;  and  just  as  our  new  tveaswrev  turned 
to  walk  off,  an  old  gentleman  of  the  congregation 
stepped  up  and  remarked  that  he  had  not  given 
what  he  intended,  and  wished  to  add  another  five- 
dollar  bill,  which  was  politely  accepted,  and  the 
newly-installed  official  walked  quietly  away,  before 
any  of  the  proper  officers  had  noticed  what  was 
going  on.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  anything  so  su¬ 
premely  ridiculous  ?  ”  said  he ;  and  he  again 
showed  a  fine  set  of  white  teeth.  “  I  really  think 
the  rascal  is  deserving  some  credit  for  his  impu¬ 
dence,  but  I  would  like  to  recover  the  money,  if 
possible,”  said  he.  “  But  I  do  not  wish  to  make 
the  matter  public ;  I  desire  you  not  to  publish  the 
robbery  in  the  papers.” 

I  said  the  case  should  be  managed  as  he  deshed, 
and  calling  one  of  the  officers,  gave  him  instruc¬ 
tions  relative  to  the  matter,  and  the  reverend  gen¬ 
tleman  departed 

Next  morning  the  gentleman  sent  me  word  that 

the  whole  suspicion  was  a  mistake,  —  that  the 

20* 


234 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


money  was  taken  by  one  of  tbeir  own  people,  and 
it  was  all  safe.  Then  it  was  my  turn  to  laugh, 
and  I  really  wished  the  good  man  who  gave  me 
the  case  the  evening  before  had  been  present  for 
my  benefit.  But  I  was  heartily  glad  it  turned  out 
to  be  a  mistake,  and  that  I  had  the  opportunity  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  a  highly-accomplished 
and  respectable  gentleman  under  no  worse  cir¬ 
cumstances. 


PICKPOCKETS 


PICKPOCKETS. 


Of  all  the  thieves  that  disgrace  the  name  of  man, 
the  pickpocket  is  the  meanest.  Yet  mean  as  he  is, 
it  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  members  of  the  craft 
boasting  of  their  skill.  In  former  times  this  class 
of  thieves  were  comparatively  small  and  included 
active  young  men  only.  I  recollect  reading  an  ac¬ 
count  of  a  pickpocket  operation  at  Eaneuil  Hall 
many  years  ago  when  Town  Meetings  were  held 
there.  A  young  fellow  was  caught  in  the  act,  beat 
almost  to  death  by  the  bystanders,  and  afterwards 
sent  to  the  Penitentiary.  The  crime  was  looked 
upon  with  great  disgust  then,  and  pity  we  have  not 
a  little  of  then’  discipline  now.  Put  picking 
pockets  has  since  become  a  profession  and  includes 
not  only  active  young  men  hut  males  and  females  too 
of  every  age,  sex,  and  color,  from  the  boy  and  girl 
of  eight  years  to  the  man  and  woman  of  sixty. 

Some  officers  seem  to  think  it  prudent  to  give 
notice  when  a  pickpocket  is  seen  in  a  crowd,  and 
immediately  cry  out  “Pickpockets,  look  out  for 
your  wallets  !  ”  &c. ;  but  this  is  the  very  thing  he 


/ 


\ 


236  POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 

should  not  do,  for  no  sooner  comes  such  word  of 
caution  than  every  man’s  hand  almost  involuntarily 
goes  to  his  wallet,  indicating  to  the  wily  thief 
(who  stands  by  unknown  to  all  but  the  officer)  just 
where  the  coveted  treasure  lies,  and  really  saves  a 
good  deal  of  his  valuable  time  which  would  other¬ 
wise  be  consumed  in  sounding. 

I  have  said  that  the  profession  now  includes 
almost  every  age,  sex,  and  color.  A  few  months 
since,  our  fellows  brought  in  two  girls,  well-dressed 
and  sprightly,  aged  thirteen  and  fourteen  years  only, 
who  were  as  busy  as  bees  in  riding  the  pockets  of  a 
crowd  of  ladies  who  were  standing  about  Scollay’s 
Building  awaiting  the  cars  ;  and  a  short  time  since 
the  police  arrested  some  dozen  boys  all  in  round 
caps ,  who  had  a  regular  organization  for  pocket 
picking.  They  were  from  eight  to  fifteen  years 
old,  and  one  of  the  number,  aged  but  ten  years, 
made  his  boast  in  the  Police  Office,  that  he  had  gone 
down  twentg-five  pockets  in  less  than  six  weeks ,  —  and 
he  probably  told  the  truth. 

The  place  selected  by  these  juvenile  operators 
is  generally  some  crowded  thoroughfare,  the  vicin¬ 
ity  of  a  fire,  and  places  where  a  crowd  may  be 
found  in  a  street. 

Another  class  of  the  profession,  consisting  of 
well-dressed  females,  may  be  found  any  pleasant 
afternoon  in  popular  retail  salesrooms,  places 
of  amusement,  and  horse-car  offices,  while  others 


/ 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


237 


frequent  omnibuses,  horse-car  platforms,  and  every 
other  place  affording  opportunity. 

A  crowd  and  a  lot  of  tobacco-smokers  on  the  plat¬ 
form  of  a  horse-car  offer  peculiar  facilities  for  losing 
watches,  wallets,  and  breastpins ;  the  smoker  and 
picker  working  together  most  admirably ;  the  for¬ 
mer  stops  your  breath  and  closes  your  eyes  with 
his  fumigations,  while  the  latter  helps  himself  to 
whatever  you  may  carry  about  your  person,  with 
perfect  impunity.  And  I  confess  that  I  never  see 
a  thing  in  pants,  puffing  his  nauseating  fumes  (from 
a  receptacle  for  aught  that  is  known  coated  with 
some  loathsome  disease)  into  the  face  of  every  lady 
and  gentleman  within  his  reach,  without  thinking 
the  pickpocket’s  assistant  is  at  hand,  and  people 
will  do  well  to  look  to  their  wallets. 

One  day  in  March,  1862,  a  lady  from  out  of 
town  went  into  an  auction  store  on  Federal  Street 
to  make  purchases,  and  while  there  missed  her 
wallet,  containing  about  thirty-five  dollars.  She 
suspected  a  man  who  had  stood  near  her,  but  he 
was  not  to  be  found ;  and,  like  a  sensible  woman, 
she  came  immediately  to  the  Police  Office,  made 
known  her  loss,  and  gave  a  description  of  the  sus¬ 
pected  thief. 

A  detective  immediately  started  out,  and  was  for¬ 
tunate  enough  to  get  the  trail,  —  followed  it  up,  and 
found  his  game  in  his  own  room  on  the  third  floor 
of  a  house  in  Purchase  Street,  just  as  the  old  thief 


238 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


had  replenished  his  stove  with  the  stolen  wallet. 
The  wallet  was  secured  and  the  money  found  on 
his  person,  and  when  taken  before  the  lady  both 
he  and  the  wallet  were  fully  identified. 

The  old  thief,  for  he  was  a  man  above  sixty, 
stoutly  denied  the  charge,  or  that  he  was  at  the 
auction  store,  but  the  evidence  was  too  positive  to 
admit  of  a  doubt.  *  He  said  he  was  a  German  by 
birth,  but  his  name  plainly  indicated  another  na¬ 
tionality  and  was  probably  a  borrowed  one  at  that, 
for  on  investigation  it  seemed  to  be  impossible  for 
him  to  tell  the  truth. 

He  was  small  in  stature,  very  dirty  and  ragged, 
and  looked  much  more  like  a  rag  than  a  pocket 
picker,  and  would  no  doubt  have  been  discarded  by 
the  more  genteel  members  of  the  profession, 
although  he  operated  with  good  success. 

Michael,  for  that  was  the  name  he  gave,  wound 
up  his  career  with  a  round  turn.  At  eleven 
o’clock  he  sustained  a  good  character ;  at  twelve 
arrested  for  pocket  picking ;  at  one  locked  up  in 
City  Prison ;  at  three  tried  and  convicted  of  lar¬ 
ceny,  and  at  four  serving  out  a  six  months’  term 
at  the  House  of  Correction.  . 

One  afternoon  an  old  lady  came  to  the  Office 
with  a  sad  countenance,  and  told  her  story.  She 
was  apparently  sixty-five  years  old,  looked  tidy  but 
careworn  and  feeble.  She  said  she  was  formerly 
a  resident  of  Boston,  but  for  several  years  past  had 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


239 


lived  at  Lynn ;  the  family  consisting  only  of  her¬ 
self  and  maiden  daughter,  who  had  a  long  time 
been  an  invalid.  Her  husband  had  been  dead 
many  years,  and  her  only  means  of  support  were 
what  little  labor  she  could  perform  ;  and,  said  she, 
“  You  donit  know  how  hard  it  is  for  us  to  get 
along.” 

In  consequence  of  her  unfortunate  condition,  an 
old  friend  of  her  husband  had  interested  himself 
in  her  behalf,  and  secured  for  her  the  benefit  of 
the  Pemberton  fund,  which  is  raised  by  a  legacy  in 
the  will  of  a  gentleman  of  that  name  for  the  benefit 
of  indigent  widows,  amounting  to  ten  dollars  semi¬ 
annually. 

She  had  come  to  Boston  to-day  and  drawn  her 
money,  and  after  securing  her  treasure  had  stepped 
into  the  horse-car  office  at  Scollay’s  Building  and 
took  a  seat  on  a  settee  to  await  the  cars  for 
home.  While  there  she  had  her  pocket  picked  of 
all  her  money  and  was  left  penniless. 

Like  reports  often  come  to  the  Office,  but  this 
case  seemed  peculiarly  painful.  True  the  sum  was 
small,  —  only  ten  dollars,  —  but  it  was  all  the  old 
lady  had.  Its  receipt  had  been  anticipated  by 
numerous  little  wants  —  those  bills  must  be  met, 
and  the  loss  of  the  money  sank  deep  in  the  poor 
old  widow’s  heart,  and  all  hands  in  the  Office  were 
deeply  interested. 

On  investigation,  it  appeared  that  the  old  lady 


240 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


thought  she  had  kept  her  hand  continually  on  her 
pocket  while  in  the  car  office ;  nor  could  she 
hardly  be  made  to  believe  that  she  had  removed  it 
at  all  while  there,  although  she  undoubtedly  did,  as 
will  appear. 

When  she  took  a  seat  on  the  settee  in  the  car 
office,  two  other  ladies,  one  about  her  own  age  and 
one  much  younger,  took  a  seat  beside  her  on  the 
right.  While  sitting  there,  she  noticed  a  spool  of 
cotton  on  the  floor  rolling  along  and  unwinding  at 
her  feet,  and,  woman-like,  she  stooped,  picked  it 
up,  rewound  it  (which  of  course  took  both  hands) 
and  passed  it  to  the  lady  next  her  on  the  right, 
supposing  it  hers.  No,  it  was  not  hers.  She  then 
passed  it  to  her  companion,  but  it  was  not  hers 
either,  and  as  there  seemed  to  be  no  owner  the  old 
lady  put  it  in  her  pocket  and  thought  no  more 
of  the  matter,  not  once  dreaming  of  the  opportu¬ 
nity  she  had  given  the  pickpocket  beside  her  while 
winding  up  the  thread. 

In  a  few  moments  “  Cars  for  Prattville  ”  was  an¬ 
nounced,  and  the  two  ladies  hurried  away.  Soon 
the  cars  for  Lynn  also  were  at  the  door,  and  the 
old  lady  arose  to  go,  when  she  discovered  her  loss, 
which  she  immediately  made  known  in  the  office, 
but  no  trace  of  the  missing  money  was  to  be  found. 
She  had  exchanged  her  treasure  for  a  spool  of  cot¬ 
ton,  without  the  least  idea  of  the  trick  that  had 
been  played  upon  her  with  such  skill  and  success. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


241 


The  lady  pickpockets  were  never  detected,  but 
the  old  lady  did  not  go  away  from  our  Office  pen¬ 
niless. 


In  the  summer  of  1862,  several  ladies  who  lost 
then*  portemonnaies  on  Washington  Street,  reported 
noticing  an  elderly  female  well-dressed  and  wear¬ 
ing  golcl-bowed  specs ,  who  abruptly  jostled  them 
on  the  sidewalk.  Indeed,  so  common  were  these 
complaints,  that  the  officers  gave  the  unknown 
the  name  of  Madam  Specs ,  and  made  it  a  special¬ 
ty  to  look  her  up  ;  and  one  afternoon  two  of  them 
who  were  on  Washington  Street  tumbled  to  the 
veritable  old  lady  herself. 

The  officers  represented  her  as  being  one  of  the 
most  industrious  and  reckless  pickers  they  ever 
saw.  She  would  stop  at  a  window  apparently  for 
the  purpose  of  looking  at  the  goods  inside,  but 
really  to  watch  every  one  that  passed.  When  an 
old  lady  came  along  (she  seemed  partial  to  ladies 
of  her  own  age)  she  would  break  for  her  some¬ 
times  in  a  smart  run,  get  alongside  and  immedi¬ 
ately  commence  on  the  pocket  as  they  walked  on. 
Some  would  notice  her  and  edge  off.  If  so,  she 
would  again  stop  at  the  first  window  and  watch 
the  next  chance,  all  the  while  appearing  as  care¬ 
less  and  as  eager  in  her  labors  as  if  they  were  ever 

so  legitimate. 

21 


242 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


She  was  not,  however,  very  successful  in  her 
work  on  the  day  in  question,  having  in  the  course 
of  half  an  hour  made  some  dozen  attempts  and 
securing  but  one  wallet  containing  but  about  five 
dollars  for  all  her  trouble,  and  no  sooner  had  she 
done  this  than  she  found  herself  in  custody. 

The  old  lady  wore  a  new  black  silk  dress  with  a 
profusion  of  flounces,  a  nice  straw  bonnet  and  veil, 
carried  a  parasol  and  large  reticule,  wore  a  black 
kid  glove  on  her  right  hand,  the  left,  with  which 
she  operated,  being  bare.  Ladies  usually  wear 
their  pockets  on  the  right  side,  I  believe,  making 
it  necessary  for  the  pickpocket  to  use  the  left  hand, 
and  the  old  woman  well  understood  the  theory  of 
4 4  handling  her  work  without  mittens.” 

When  at  the  Office,  old  woman  as  she  was,  for 
she  must  have  been  near  sixty,  she  showed  the 
most  shrewdness  of  any  thief  I  ever  saw.  When 
asked,  she  would  not  even  give  her  name,  nor 
could  you  draw  a  direct  answer  to  any  question 
whatever.  Thieves,  shrewd  as  many  of  them  are, 
generally  talk  too  much  for  their  own  good,  often 
dropping  a  word  that  eventually  leads  to  then*  own 
conviction,  and  it  is  a  tough  customer  that  will  sit 
quietly  under  the  inquisition  of  a  shrewd  officer 
without  lessening  his  chances  of  escape  if  really 
guilty.  But  not  so  with  Madam  Specs.  Not  the 
movement  of  a  muscle,  or  a  sound  could  be  drawn 
from  her. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


243 


In  her  possession  was  found  a  few  trifling  arti¬ 
cles  such  as  a  spool  of  cotton ,  a  few  pearl  buttons, 
and  the  stolen  purse  which  she  had  taken  the  last 
grab.  If  she  had  raised  anything  more  on  that 
day,  she  had  an  accomplice  to  receive  the  funds, 
but  probably  she  had  none. 

Madam  Specs  was  locked  up  for  the  night  and 
shown  up  at  the  Office  next  morning,  but  no  one 
knew  her.  At  the  close  of  which  she  quietly 
said,  “  What  do  you  expect  to  make  out  of  all 
this  1  ”  which  was  the  only  remark  she  was  heard 
to  make  while  in  custody. 

The  lady  who  owned  the  purse  refused  to  ap¬ 
pear  in  court  against  the  old  thief,  and  the  officer 
who  had  charge  of  the  case  very  reluctantly  suf¬ 
fered  her  to  go.  I  am  not  aware  that  she  has 
since  been  seen  in  Boston. 


A  CHARM  GAME. 


A  well-known  legal  gentleman  came  into  the 
Office  one  day,  and  requested  me  to  render  some 
assistance  in  ferreting  out  a  lady  rogue ,  who  had 
been  playing  a  deep-laid  game  on  a  highly  respect¬ 
able  lady  in  a  neighboring  city. 

It  seems  that  a  lady  of  wealth  and  the  highest 
respectability,  had  formed  a  matrimonial  connec¬ 
tion  with  a  gentleman  every  way  her  equal,  and 
considerably  younger  than  herself.  After  a  time, 
although  everything  passed  on  smoothly,  the  lady 
began  to  have  misgivings  that  the  disparity  in  their 
ages  might  prove  a  source  of  inconstancy  on  the 
part  of  her  liege  lord;  and  the  germ  of  distrust 
once  having  taken  root,  soon  branched  forth  with 
amazing  rapidity,  and  notwithstanding  no  earthly 
cause  could  be  assigned  in  her  own  mind,  the 
thought  soon  became  insupportable.  The  lady 
was  naturally  of  a  marvellous  turn,  and  she  soon 
formed  a  resolution  to  apply  to  a  certain  female 
fortune-teller  of  considerable  notoriety,  who,  Madam 
Rumor  said,  dealt  in  charms. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


245 


Well,  to  the  fortune-teller  she  went,  and  opened 
her  case,  which  was  entered  into  with  much  spirit 
and  interest. 

The  fortune-teller,  after  a  long  consultation  and 
a  frequent  recurrence  to  the  cards,  finally  decided 
that  although  the  case  was  peculiar  and  extremely 
difficult,  yet  it  was,  if  carefully  managed,  perfectly 
practicable  and  sure  of  success,  and,  notwithstand¬ 
ing  the  seeming  disparity  in  age,  that  the  affinity 
of  spirit  might  be  formed  without  a  blemish,  if  the 
lady  herself  would  keep  the  charm.  They  were  to 
form  a  profound  secret,  to  which  of  course  the  lady 
so  deeply  interested  yielded  a  ready  assent. 

Then  for  the  process  :  the  lady  applicant  must 
carefully  collect  together  anything  valuable  belong¬ 
ing  to  her  husband,  the  smaller  in  compass  and  the 
higher  in  value  the  better,  especially  if  ever  worn 
by  him  or  carried  near  his  person,  —  watch,  jew¬ 
elry,  money,  or  anything  valuable.  “  Keep  them 
closely  near  your  person  for  a  few  hours,  and  then 
send  me  word,  and  I  will  come  to  you.  You  must 
keep  them  near  you,  but  I,  being  the  medium, 
must  touch  them,  and  then  I  will  instruct  you  what 
to  do.” 

The  deluded  lady  treasured  up  every  word,  as  if 

they  had  fallen  from  the  lips  of  an  angel,  promised 

the  strictest  secrecy,  and  hastened  home  to  make 

preparation.  Before  many  hours  she  had  collected 

gold  watch,  jewelry,  money  and  keepsakes  amount- 
21* 


216 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS, 


ing  in  value  to  something  over  two  thousand  dol¬ 
lars,  and  the  charm  queen  was  forthwith  informed, 
and  made  her  appearance,  bringing  with  her  a 
nicely-wrought  little  box,  in  which  to  deposit  the 
treasure. 

The  property  was  carefully  placed  in  this  box, 
the  charmer  being  particular  to  touch  each  piece. 
The  box  was  then  locked,  and  a  peculiar  seal  set 
thereon,  so  that  it  could  not  be  opened  without 
breaking  the  seal,  the  lady  owner  placing  the  box 
carefully  in  her  own  trunk,  where  no  hand  must 
pollute  it  for  three  weeks ;  and  during  that  time 
the  charmer  was  to  retain  the  key.  At  the  close 
of  the  specified  time  the  charm  queen  was  to 
return  and  deliver  up  the  key,  when  the  charm 
would  be  complete.  The  charmer  departed,  and 
the  lady  rested  in  peace. 

At  the  expiration  of  three  weeks,  the  fortune¬ 
teller  did  not  make  her  appearance.  The  lady 
began  to  grow  a  little  uneasy,  and  made  inquiries, 
but  could  learn  no  tidings  of  her  friend ;  but  hav¬ 
ing  carefully  examined  the  box,  and  finding  the 
seal  unbroken,  she  felt  no  alarm  for  the  safety  of 
her  property.  As  time  rolled  on  and  no  charm 
queen  appeared,  and  feeling  that  she  had  faithfully 
kept  her  secret  and  performed  all  that  was  re¬ 
quired,  she  thought  she  might  as  well  open  the 
box,  and  replace  the  money,  jewelry,  &c.,  in  their 
accustomed  places,  before  the  husband  missed  them. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


247 


She  accordingly  proceeded  to  break  the  seal, 
and,  as  she  had  not  the  possession  of  the  key,  to 
pry  open  the  box ;  but  on  doing  so  —  oh !  horror 
of  horrors !  the  valuables  were  gone,  and  in  their 
place  she  beheld  a  box  of  pebbles.  The  charm 
game  was  at  once  apparent;  she  had  been  most 
cruelly  duped,  and  her  treasure  was  gone.  The 
wily  charmer  had  brought  two  boxes,  and  had 
managed  to  place  in  the  hand  of  her  confiding  cus¬ 
tomer  the  box  of  pebbles,  while  she  had  walked 
off  with  the  box  of  jewels,  having  ample  time  to 
gather  up  her  traps  and  remove  to  parts  unknown. 

The  lady,  of  course,  was  in  a  dilemma,  and  she 
could  not  long  conceal  the  circumstances  from  her 
husband;  but  how  the  case  became  fully  devel¬ 
oped,  the  deponent  saith  not. 

However,  diligent  search  has  been  made  for  the 
charm-worker,  as  yet  without  success.  If  she 
manages  as  shrewdly  in  avoiding  detection  as  she 
did  in  securing  her  booty,  she  will  not  soon  be 
brought  to  justice. 

While  in  the  act  of  making  a  record  of  this 
transaction  some  months  after  its  occurrence,  a 
gentleman  and  lady,  both  of  prepossessing  appear¬ 
ance,  walked  into  the  Office  and  inquired  for  me, 
and  gave  me  their  names.  I  had  never  seen  them 
before,  but  they  were  the  duped  parties  of  whom  I 
had  been  writing.  They  came  to  make  inquiries 
of  what  had  been  done  relative  to  their  loss  ;  but 


248 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


our  efforts  having  been  closely  limited  by  their 
counsel,  for  fear  of  exposure,  and  the  guilty  party 
not  having  come  to  our  city,  we  had  done  very 
little  in  the  case. 

The  people  did  not  appear  like  persons  likely  to 
be  easily  imposed  upon,  yet  so  it  was,  and  appar¬ 
ently  very  mortifying  too.  The  gentleman  seemed 
to  take  the  matter  very  coolly,  and  remarked  that 
misery  loves  company,  and  it  was  some  consolation 
to  know  that  his  family  were  not  the  only  fools  at 
his  own  place  of  residence,  “  for,”  said  he  44  ours  is 
not  a  solitary  case,  nor  the  most  provoking  one  of 
the  kind  that  has  occurred  in  our  own  immediate 
neighborhood.” 


LIQUOR  LAW  DISCLOSURES. 


Of  the  many  evils  that  have  taxed  the  ingenuity 
and  the  patience  of  the  philanthropist  and  the 
legislator,  the  manufacture  and  sale  of  liquor  has 
not  been  among  the  least.  The  liquor  law  has 
been  enacted,  established,  amended,  reenacted,  re¬ 
established,  modified,  remodelled,  suspended,  and 
reconstructed,  from  time  immemorial. 

The  present  law,  which,  from  its  similarity  to 
one  made  for  the  Pine-Tree  State,  is  called  the 
“  Maine  Law,”  was  passed  in  Massachusetts  in 
1855,  and  was  then  supposed  by  its  friends  to  be 
the  best  that  could  be  made.  At  the  time  of  its 
passage,  the  question  assumed  somewhat  a  political 
character,  and  some  are  so  ungenerous  as  to  hint 
that  the  spirit  still  enters  into  the  canvass  of  our 
municipal  matters ;  but  as  the  temperance  people 
hardly  ever  have  an  exclusively  separate  candidate, 
the  idea  may  be  erroneous. 

However,  when  the  Maine  Law  came  in  force  in 
1855,  the  order  from  the  City  Government  to  the 
Police,  went  forth  to  execute ,  —  not  the  liquor,  but 


i 


250 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


the  law.  Nevertheless,  I  believe  there  was  some 
of  the  liquor  worthy  of  condemnation,  and  some 
men  probably  punished  a  good  deal  of  the  article. 

Well,  when  the  order  came,  Geevus  (poor 
burgher),  loaded  down  with  instructions,  struck  out 
to  perform  his  duty,  —  and  an  up-hill  business  he 
found  it.  The  opponents  of  the  law  (and  they 
were  a  majority  in  Boston),  of  course,  threw  every 
possible  obstacle  in  the  way,  and  those  in  favor  of 
it,  I  must  say,  seemed  not  over-anxious  to  aid  us 
and  “  come  up  to  the  help  of  the  ”  police  against 
the  mighty.  This  made  our  progress,  to  say  the 
least,  a  little  slow.  However,  in  a  few  weeks  many 
good  cases  were  presented  for  the  investigation  of 
the  Grand  Jury;  the  police,  in  all  cases,  making 
themselves  witnesses,  and  there  their  powers 
ended.  The  result  is  not  yet  forgotten. 

Notwithstanding  the  serious  necessity  of  some 
method  to  regulate  the  great  evil,  or  of  the  grave 
character  of  our  work,  circumstances  would  occa¬ 
sionally  grow  out  of  our  attempts  to  execute  the 
law,  in  themselves  the  most  ludicrous  and  annoying. 

One  provision  of  the  law  makes  it  the  duty  of 
an  officer,  if  he  finds  a  person  intoxicated  in  a 
public  place,  to  take  him  to  some  proper  place  to 
be  kept  till  sober  .;  from  thence  to  be  taken  before 
the  Police  Court  and  complained  of.  Further  pro¬ 
vision  is  made,  that  if  such  person  shall  then  and 
there  fully  disclose  the  name  of  the  person  who 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


251 


sold  him  the  liquor,  and  all  the  facts  relative 
thereto,  said  defendant  shall  be  discharged,  &c. 

Well,  one  day,  while  one  of  our  officers  was 
perambulating  North  Street,  he  found  a  poor  body 
lying  drunk  in  a  public  place,  contrary  to  law,  and, 
faithful  officer  as  he  was,  he  commenced  the  per¬ 
formance  of  his  duty.  Next  morning  poor  Pat 
found  himself  at  the  bar  of  justice,  —  and  he  was 
not  alone  in  his  dilemma,  by  a  long  chalk. 

The  practice  of  the  clerk  then  was  to  first  read 
the  complaint  for  being  drunk  by  the  voluntary  use 
of  intoxicating  liquor,  and  then  pertinently  inquire 
of  the  poor  culprit  if  he  wished  to  disclose.  Very 
few  ever  responded  to  this  invitation  in  the  affirm¬ 
ative,  and,  on  the  morning  in  question,  not  one 
seemed  to  be  willing  to  place  his  fault  at  another’s 
doer.  Pat  anxiously  watched  them,  one  by  one, 
as  they  were  fined  three  dollars  and  cost,  and 
trotted  off  to  the  Tombs  below.  When  his  name 
was  called  by  the  worthy  clerk,  he  sprang  from 
the  prisoner’s  stand  with  the  agility  of  a  cat,  and 
sang  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice  — 

“  Hauld  on,  hauld  on,  mother  Consthable  !  Ye 
grady  spalpeen,  don’t  let  me  hear  another  word 
from  your  mug  at  all,  at  all ;  it  is  meself  that  will- 
disclose  to  the  jidge,  his  Honor.  And  now  will 
yer  Honor  hear  me,  Misther  Jidge?  Didn’t  I 
mate  Dennie,  me  first  cousin,  jist  come  out  from 
the  auld  counthry,  Mr.  Jidge  ?  And  when  I 


I 


252  POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 

was  so  glad  to  see  him,  did  n’t  he  come  along  wid 
me  to  the  warehouse,  Misther  Jidge,  and  by  the 
help  of  Masther  Walker’s  gimlet  and  a  fine  bit  of 
sthraw,  did  n’t  we  take  a  wee  drop  of  the  crather 
free  gratis,  Misther  Jidge !  And  now,  Misther 
Jidge,  I  am  not  like  the  spalpeens  just  here  who 
gets  drunk  on  three  cent  liquor,  Misther  Jidge. 
And  now  have  I  not  disclosed  according  to  law, 
sir  ;  and  if  ye  plase,  Misther  Jidge,  I  ’ll  be  going 
jist.” 

The  venerable  magistrate  could  not  see  the 
point,  and  poor  Pat  was  fined  three  dollars  and 
cost,  and  sent  down  with  the  rest. 

Another  case,  that  will  serve  to  illustrate,  and 
also  to  show  the  ingenuity  of  an  old  rogue  when 
half-seas-over  in.  an  attempt  to  free  himself  from 
limbo,  may  be  seen  in  the  following  :  — 

An  old  fellow,  whose  Christian  name  was  Uriah, 
and  who  had  been  up  for  almost  every  offence 
known  in  the  catalogue  of  crime,  was  seen  by  an 
officer  early  one  morning  seemingly  inclined  with 
a  very  prying  curiosity ,  at  the  door  of  a  dry  goods 
store  in  Hanover  Street;  but  being  a  little  top- 
heavy,  he  made  but  poor  progress.  After  watch¬ 
ing  his  movements  awhile,  the  officer  brought 
him  in. 

“  Well,  Uriah,”  said  I,  “  you  did  not  meet  with 
much  success  this  morning,  I  learn ;  from  present 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


253 


appearances  it  must  be  in  consequence  of  that  arti¬ 
cle  you  have  in  your  hat.” 

'  ‘  my  ^at  ■  sa^  Uriah,  starting  up  from  the 
railing  on  which  he  was  leaning.  “  What  is  in 
my  hat  ?  ” 

“  A  brick,”  said  I. 

“  You  mean  1  drunk,”  said  he,  apparently 
quite  willing  I  should  take  that  view  of  his  case. 
“  Well,”  said  he,  shutting  up  one  eye  and  squint¬ 
ing  at  me  with  the  other  in  a  most  comical  rnan- 
ner,  “  I  admit —  I  admit ’t  is  the  thing  in  my  hat, 
and  if  I  disclose,  will  ye  let  me  up ;  it ’s  the  law 
sir,  an’  I  know  ye  will.  Well,  sir,  I  have  been 
down  to  the  Home ,  you  know,  and  one  of  the  good 
people .  there,  no  doubt  meaning  well,  gave  me 
something  that  is  the  cause  of  all  this  trouble. 
Yes,  it  is  in  my  hat,  as  you  say,  sure  enough  ;  but 
I  will  disclose,  and  then  I  am  free  —  ’t  is  the  law. 

I  will  disclose,  and  here  it  is,”  staggering  back| 
pulling  off  his  hat,  and  drawing  therefrom  a  copy 
of  the  Maine  Liquor  Law  in  pamphlet  form. 
“That’s  the  thing,”  said  he,-_“  that’s  what  used 
me  up ;  and  now  I ’ve  disclosed,  you  ’ll  let  me  go. 
It  s  the  law ;  ”  and  over  he  tumbled  upon  the 
floor,  but  not  half  as  drunk  as  he  pretended.  He 

was,  however,  put  in  the  cell,  and  kept  till  he  was 
quite  sober. 


22 


POLICE  DESCENTS. 


All  communities  may  be  said  to  have  their 
peculiar  standard  of  morals,  and  there  must,  of 
necessity,  be  different  classes  in  the  scale,  as  the 
higher,  middling,  and  lower,  and  in  speaking  of 
either  we  have  a  comparative  reference  to  the 
others.  If  we  say  a  man  is  good,  we  mean  that  he 
is  up  to  the  standard,  which,  in  fact,  only  means 
that  he  is  better  than  many  others  - —  for  no  man 
is  good,  “  no,  not  one  ;  ”  and,  on  the  other  hand,  if 
we  say  a  man  is  bad,  we  still  speak  comparatively, 
meaning  that  his  character  is  below  the  average. 
If  there  was  nothing  wherewith  to  form  a  compar¬ 
ison,  there  could  hardly  be  an  appreciation  of 
either  good  or  evil,  and  a  good  man  once  said, 
“Were  it  not  for  the  evil,  I  had  not  known  the 
good.” 

It  has  also  been  said,  that  the  standard  of  morals 
is  lower  in  large  cities  than  in  the  country,  where 
the  population  is  more  sparse,  and  that  the  stand- 
•ard  depreciates  as  the  population  increases.  I  can 
hardly  believe  this,  however,  for  such  doctrine 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


iJ55 


would  tend  directly  to  encourage  a  life  of  celibacy 
and  hermitage,  where  morals  would  hardly  be 
counted  as  valuables ;  and  if  it  is  said,  also,  that 
there  are  not  as  good  men,  and  women  too,  in 

cities  as  there  are  in  towns,  I  shall  demur  to  this 
whole  batch  of  opinions. 

However,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  a  spirit  of 
licentiousness  is  spread  abroad  through  all  large 
cities,  where  influence  for  evil  keeps  pace  in  a  great 
degree  with  the  increase  of  population,  and  which, 
like  a  lingering  humor,  often  concentrates  and 
breaks  out  at  different  points  in  the  system.  Or, 
if  it  is  smothered  by  conservative  treatment,  it  may 
for  a  time  disappear  from  the  surface,  yet  ever 
ready  again  to  break  forth  anew  in  a  different 

locality.  Nor  has  our  own  city  been  an  exception 
to  the  general  rule. 

Some  people  seem  to  think  that  licentiousness  is 
almost  a  necessary  evil,  and  argue  that  a  house¬ 
hold,  or  a  community,  who  would  preserve  a 
healthy  condition,  must  have  their  sink,  or  their 
cesspool,  and  some  cities  in  the  old  world  have 
adopted  this  principle,  and  attempt  to  regulate  by 
license  what  they  say  they  cannot  prohibit,  and 
when  we  come  to  look  about  us  in  relation  to  these 
matters,  we  can  hardly  see  that  the  execution  of 

our  own  laws  of  prohibition  fully  accomplishes  the 
desired  result. 

In  early  times,  the  laws  of  our  Puritan  Fathers 


256 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


were  very  severe  on  the  licentious  and  vicious.  So 
much  so  as  to  appear  to  us  in  some  instances  quite 
ridiculous :  but  that  such  evils  did  exist,  even 
among  the  Puritans ,  is  evident  from  the  fact  that 
it  became  necessary  to  make  laws  in  relation  to 
them,  and  more  than  that,  the  record  reveals  that 
there  must  have  been  a  very  curious  standard 
of  morals  in  Boston  at  these  times.  The  time  was, 
when,  if  a  gentleman  kissed  a  lady,  he  subjected  * 
himself  to  a  fine  of  three  pence  at  least  (provided 
always  that  the  offence  be  proved),  it  is  presumed 
that  this  law  did  not  prove  prohibitory .  Or,  if  a 
woman  was  suspected  of  any  little  improprieties, 
she  was  liable  to  be  set  high  up  on  a  stool  in  the 
broad  aisle  of  the  church  on  Sunday,  there  exposed 
to  the  gaze  and  derision  of  the  whole  congrega¬ 
tion  ;  if  this  were  the  universal  practice  at  the  pres¬ 
ent  day,  should  we  not  require  large  churches  and 
very  broad  aisles  ? 

Since  Boston  became  a  city,  the  evils  of  licen¬ 
tiousness  have  sometimes  shown  themselves  in 
such  formidable  array  as  to  set  at  nought,  for  a 
time,  the  powers  of  the  executive  ;  and,  in  some 
instances,  the  evils  have  become  so  obnoxious  that 
the  better  portion  of  the  citizens  have  felt  com¬ 
pelled  to  take  the  matter  into  their  own  hands, 
The  demonstrations  on  what  was  called  “  The 
Hill”  at  the  West  part  of  the  town,  the  Tin  Pot ,  and 
The  Beehive  at  the  North  End,  were  of  this  nature. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


257 


In  demonstrations  of  public  displeasure,  it  was 
not  the  practice  for  those  engaged  in  them  to  make 
any  arrest,  but  the  executors  generally  amused 
themselves  by  pulling  down  shanties ,  and  breaking 
up  furniture,  and  allowing  the  tenants  to  “  flee 
with  their  lives.” 

Since  better  Police  Regulations  have  been  in¬ 
augurated,  these  extreme  measures  have  not 
been  deemed  necessary,  or,  if  they  were,  parties 
have  been  careful  not  to  carry  them  into  execution. 
But  yet,  evil  has  not  been  entirely  suppressed, 
as  the  records  of  Ann  Street  and  some  other  local¬ 
ities  bear  abundant  testimony. 

In  the  year  1851,  the  purlieus  of  Ann  Street  had 
become  so  notorious  and  troublesome,  that  the  City 
Government  found  it  necessary  to  adopt  some 
measure  to  work  a  reform,  and,  under  the  direction 
of  City  Marshal  Tukey,  a  new  plan  was  set  on  foot 
to  “  spring  a  mine.” 

About  this  time,  for  several  weeks,  might  be 
seen  the  forms  of  two  stalwart  fellows  (with  neither 
badge  nor  baton)  continually  passing  up  and  down 
the  sidewalks  in  Ann  Street,  peering  into  dance- 
halls  and  cellars,  and  carefully  taking  notes  of  the 
various  passing  transactions ;  and  on  the  evening 
of  the  23d  of  April,  the  grand  finale  was  brought 
out  by  a  tremendous  Police  Descent. 

The  police  officers  who  were  detailed  for  this 

important  duty,  had  been  at  work  accumulating 

22* 

\  ,  *• 


258  POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 

v 

evidence  against  the  numerous  disturbers  of  the 
public  peace,  and  violators  of  law,  and  had  pro¬ 
cured  warrants  for  the  arrest  of  some  two  hundred 
persons.  At  nine  o’clock  in  the  evening  of  this 
day,  the  whole  police  force,  consisting  of  some  fifty 
men,  and  about  the  same  number  of  the  watch 
department,  started  out  from  the  Watch  House  on 
Hanover  Street,  and  proceeded  directly  to  Ann 
Street,  where  each  had  his  work  assigned.  In 
about  half  an  hour  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  per¬ 
sons,  of  all  ages,  sexes,  nations,  and  colors,  were  in 
custody  in  the  Watch  House  for  the  various  crimes 
of  piping,  fiddling,  dancing,  drinking,  and  all 
their  attendant  vices,  —  and  from  thence  were 
marched  off  in  pairs  to  the  Leverett  Street  Jail. 
The  next  day,  this  horde  of  depraved  humanity 
was  before  the  Police  Court,  and  sentenced  for 
their  crimes.  Some  three,  some  four,  and  some 
six  months,  to  the  various  Reformatory  Institu¬ 
tions. 

For  many  weeks  afterwards,  the  great  reform  in 
Ann  Street,  and  the  efficient  and  well-judged 
action  of  the  police,  was  spoken  of  with  admiration 
and  praise.  But  the  poor  miserable  victims  of 
vice  and  misfortune,  who  had  been  taken  from  the 
street  and  sent  to  prison,  were  yet  alive,  and  when 
their  sentences  had  expired  and  they  were  set  at 
liberty,  they  must  go  somewhere ;  they  dare  not 
go  home,  to  their  respectable  friends  in  or  out  of 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


259 


the  city ;  they  had  been  in  felon’s  cells,  and  would 
not  be  received  and  aided  to  reform  where  they 
were  known.  They  dare  not  go  back  to  Ann 
Street;  the  eagle  eye  of  justice  was  there  watch¬ 
ing  their  return ;  they  must  go  somewhere  where 
they  were  not  known,  and  a  few  weeks  afterward 
they  were  scattered  as  domestics  in  the  families  of 
respectable  citizens  throughout  the  city  and  its 
suburbs.  They  had  not  reformed.  During  their 
confinement  they  had  not  the  time  nor  opportunity 
for  that  great  and  important  work.  But  they 
necessarily  carried  with  them,  more  or  less,  the 
tastes  and  the  feelings  that  they  had  acquired  in 
Ann  Street;  and  I  firmly  believe,  that  many  a 
Christian  father,  and  pious  mother,  has  shed  the 
bitter  tears  of  grief  over  a  fallen  son  or  daughter 
who  was  little  aware  how  or  when  the  first  seeds 
of  immorality  were  sown  in  the  heart  of  their  child. 
What  else  could  be  the  result  of  such  family  asso¬ 
ciations  ?  At  any  rate,  the  house  robberies  and 
burglaries  for  a  period  of  time  directly  after,  in¬ 
creased  to  a  most  alarming  extent,  and  those  even 
who  at  first  were  the  admirers  of  the  grand  Police 
Descent,  began  to  speak  in  doubt  of  the  propriety 
or  benefit  of  such  measures.  That  was  the  end 

^  -Police  Descents  of  a  similar  character  for  many 
years. 

In  the  fall  of  18o8,  the  writer  was  entrusted 
with  the  supervision  of  another  Descent  in  Ann 


260 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


Street,  on  a  little  different  principle  from  that  in 
the  year  1851,  and  it  is  hoped  with  better  results. 

During  the  time  the  Station  House  was  un¬ 
dergoing  repairs,  in  Hanover  Street,  in  the  sum¬ 
mer  and  fall  of  that  year,  the  nymphs  of  Ann 
Street  had  been  gaining  ground  both  in  spirit  and 
numbers,  and  the  officers  thought  they  could  count 
fifty  or  sixty  new  /aces  on  the  street,  and  the  old 
stock  had  not  diminished.  Many  of  the  new  arri¬ 
vals  were  young,  and  quite  a  number  had  been 
taken  from  these  haunts  of  vice,  and  sent  home  to 
their  friends  in  the  country.  But  most  of  such 
were  soon  back  again,  and  it  was  evident  that 
something  more  potent  than  moral  suasion  was 
necessary  to  convince  them  of  the  error  of  their 
ways.  After  consulting  with  the  kind-hearted 
Judge  Wells,  of  the  Police  Court,  and  taking  in¬ 
structions  from  the  Chief  of  Police,  the  officers  at 
Station  No.  1  were  set  at  work  to  look  up  the  evi¬ 
dence,  and  in  a  few  days  fifty-four  warrants  were 
obtained  for  as  many  of  the  poor  deluded  spec¬ 
imens  of  female  humanity  dwelling  in  Ann  Street. 

On  the  evening  of  the  22d  of  October,  as  the 
clock  on  the  old  Cockerel  Church  struck  nine, 
forty  policemen  without  uniform  quietly  left  the 
Station  House  by  different  routes,  and  in  less  than 
thirty  minutes  there  were  fifty-one  women  in 
custody  in  our  guardroom.  Such  a  sight,  under 
such  circumstances,  it  was  most  painful  to  behold. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


261 


These  girls  were  mostly  young,  and  many  of  them 
had  been  in  the  city  but  a  few  months.  Most  of 
them  were  good  looking,  and  under  other  circum 
stances  would  be  considered  handsome.  They 
were  taken  in  custody  at  a  time  when  they  had  but 
just  completed  their  toilet  (the  best  they  could 
raise)  for  the  evening  dance  and  debauch.  To  an 
unpiactised  eye  they  might  have  been  mistaken  for 
an  assembly  of  beautiful  and  accomplished  young 
ladies,  foi  they  were  now  cpiite  sober  and  reserved, 

rum  not  having  had  time  on  that  night  to  accom¬ 
plish  its  accursed  work. 

But  to  one  who  had  often  been  an  eye-witness 
to  their  lewd  and  wanton  behavior,  and  who  well 
knew  them  loathsome  haunts  of  tilth  and  vice,  the 
scene  was  heart-sickening  indeed. 

I  spoke  to  them  separately  of  their  home  and 
fiiends,  to  learn  something  of  them  history,  and 
then  told  them  collectively  my  design. 

Ihe  next  morning  the  fifty-one  were  at  court, 
most  of  them  having  realized  the  sweets  of  a  prison 
for  the  first  night.  On  the  opening  of  the  court, 
the  good  judge  was  informed  of  the  nature  of  their 
case,  and  was  asked  if  not  inconsistent  with  the 
requirements  of  justice,  to  give  all  who  were  found 
guilty  of  the  charges  preferred  against  them,  a 
good  smart  sentence,  with  a  suspension,  to  en¬ 
able  them  to  leave  the  city  for  their  parents  and 
home.  To  this  the  kind-hearted  judge  readily 


262 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


assented,  and  forty-seven  of  tlie  number  gladly 
accepted  the  opportunity. 

With  the  aid  of  the  officers,  I  believe  they  all 
fulfilled  their  agreement,  and  it  is  sincerely  hoped 
that  most  of  them  left  these  dens  of  infamy  forever. 

I  never  had  cause  to  regret  the  course  I  pursued 
in  assisting  to  execute  this  Police  Descent. 


CHOLERA  IN  1854. 


In  the  summer  of  1854,  the  city  of  Boston  was 
visited  by  that  dreadful  scourge  the  Asiatic  cholera; 
and  although  our  northern  climate  is  not  so  con¬ 
genial  to  the  fearful  malady  as  more  Southern  cities, 
yet  its  ravages  here  were  amply  sufficient  to  carry 
terror  and  dismay  to  every  household. 

The  New  Police  Organization  had  gone  into  op¬ 
eration  in  May  of  that  year,  and  having  the  charge 
of  the  North  Station,  it  fell  to  my  lot  to  be  much 
amongst  the  disease,  and  a  most  unpleasant,  not  to 
say  dangerous,  duty  it  was.  I  hope  never  to  pass 
through  like  scenes  again. 

At  the  first  appearance  of  the  disease,  fear 
seemed  to  seize  almost  every  heart,  and  the  Police 
were  expected  to  do  what  no  one  else  cared  to  do. 

I  cannot  say  that  I  was  free  from  a  lingering 
dread  myself,  but  I  formed  a  resolution  that,  come 
what  would,  I  would  not  neglect  my  duty  to  the 
poor  suffering  beings  about  me,  nor  would  I  ask  a 
subordinate  officer  to  go  where  I  dare  not  go,  or  do 


264 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


what  I  dare  not  do  myself ;  and  I  assisted  with  my 
own  hands  in  removing  more  than  fifty  bodies,  of  the 
dead  and  dying,  where  necessity  for  the  safety  of 
others  required  it.  In  some  instances,  where  life 
had  departed  but  a  few  hours,  the  corpse  would  be  so 
swollen,  that  the  largest  coffin  could  not  contain  it; 
in  others  the  flesh  would  actually  fall  to  pieces,  a  pu¬ 
trefied  mass,  before  it  could  be  properly  laid  out,  the 
stench  arising  therefrom  being  almost  suffocating. 

Most  of  the  sickness  occurred  in  filthy  or  over¬ 
crowded  localities,  yet  the  disease  found  its  victims 
in  all  parts  of  the  city. 

In  looking  over  my  memorandum,  made  at  the 
time,  I  find  the  following,  in  substance,  omitting 
names. 

The  first  case  that  occurred  was  on  Sunday,  June 
11,  in  rear  of  what  was  then  No.  6  Fleet  Street. 
Hearing  that  a  man  had  died  there  very  suddenly, 
after  making  examination,  I  called  the  city  physi¬ 
cian. 

The  man  was  lying  dead  in  the  yard ;  had  been 
v  sick  about  eight  hours,  —  and  another  man  was 
dying  in  the  room  from  which  the  first  had  been 
removed.  The  physician  immediately  pronounced 
these  marked  cases  of  cholera.  The  second  man 
died  while  we  were  there,  and  a  woman  was  also 
taken  sick.  The  room  where  these  men  died  was 
over  a  shed,  low  posted,  poorly  ventilated,  and  oc¬ 
cupied  by  thirteen  persons. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


265 


By  direction  of  the  physician  we  summoned  help 
and  removed  the  last  body  from  the  room;  it 
being  so  much  swollen,  that  we  had  to  put  it  in  a 
box  and  take  it  out  of  a  window ;  the  bodies  of 
the  two  men  were  immediately  buried,  the  people 
removed,  and  tne  room  closed.  The  day  was  ex- 
tiemely  hot  and  muggy,  and  our  work  was  any¬ 
thing  but  desirable. 

These  cases  aroused  the  city  authorities  to  action, 
and  preparations  were  immediately  made  to  remove 
and  accommodate  the  sick  at  a  hospital  on  Fort 

Hill,  and  the  most  stringent  sanitary  regulations 
were  adopted. 

The  next  day  the  weather  became  cooler,  and 
foi  a  few  days  no  more  cases  occurred,  but  in 
about  two  weeks  the  weather  became  sultry  again, 
and  the  disease  broke  out  anew. 

June  25.  A  laborer  died  in  Keith’s  Alley,  after 
an  illness  of  eight  hours  ;  his  body  was  too  much 

swollen  to  put  in  a  coffin,  and  was  buried  immedi¬ 
ately. 

June  26.  A  sailor  on  board  the  schooner  “  Cos¬ 
sack,”  at  Lewis  wharf,  was  attacked  and  removed 
to  the  hospital.  The  city  had  now  provided  a 
team  with  a  spring  wagon  and  bed,  for  the  removal 
of  the  sick,  which  was  driven  by  a  faithful  and 
efficient  man.  The  same  day,  a  woman  and  child 
died  in  Keith  s  Alley,  and  were  removed  immedi¬ 
ately,  and  the  house  was  cleansed  and  closed. 

23 


266 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


June  27.  A  woman  died  at  41  Portland  Street, 
and  the  body  was  removed  immediately. 

A  laborer  was  cut  down  in  Mechanic  Street, 
was  carried  home  to  Causeway  Street,  where  he 
died  in  about  six  hours,  and  was  buried  immedi¬ 
ately. 

June  28.  Several  cases  of  smallpox  occur.  A 
woman  in  Arch  Place  is  taken  sick  and  cared  for. 

July  1.  A  woman  died  in  Keith’s  Alley,  sick 
but  six  hours,  body  putrid  before  we  could  remove 
it.  Several  others  being  sick  in  the  house,  the 
occupants  were  removed  to  the  hospital.  One 
poor  woman  died  in  the  carriage  on  the  way.  The 
house  was  cleansed  by  fumigation  and  closed. 

July  3.  A  child  at  No.  150  Canal  Street,  died 
this  morning,  sick  but  ten  hours,  and  in  the  even¬ 
ing  the  mother  was  cut  down  and  died  in  six 
hours  ;  we  removed  these  bodies  to  the  Dead  House 
in  the  night,  and  smoked  the  rooms. 

July  5.  The  weather  was  very  hot  and  damp,  and 
to  add  to  the  general  gloom,  several  cases  of  sun¬ 
stroke  occurred  atthe  North  End.  One  man  fell  in 
the  street  and  was  brought  into  the  Station  House 
apparently  dead.  Three  others  were  also  struck 
down  and  brought  into  the  •  Station  House  in 
the  course  of  the  day.  In  each  case  medical 
attendance  was  procured,  and  the  sufferers  were 
carried  home  or  otherwise  provided  for.  Pear 
seemed  to  act  as  an  auxiliary  to  the  contagion,  and 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


267 


when  these  people  fell  in  the  street,  it  was  sup¬ 
posed  to  be  an  attack  of  the  dreadful  scourge ;  but 
the  cases  mentioned  were  decided  by  the  physi¬ 
cians  to  be  sun-stroke.  The  city  physician  and 
Superintendent  of  Health  were  in  constant  attend¬ 
ance,  and  with  great  care  and  skill,  rendered  the 
most  important  services  in  their  profession.  Their 
duties  were  highly  responsible,  and  we  took  our 
directions  from  them. 

At  this  time  our  Station  House  had  more  the 
appearance  of  a  hospital  than  a  prison.  Several 
of  those  brought  in  on  that  day,  died. 

July  6,  two  women  were  taken  down  with  chol¬ 
era  at  231  North  Street;  one  died  in  six  hours, 
and  the  other  was  removed  to  the  hospital,  where 
she  lived  but  a  few  hours.  We  removed  the  body 
of  the  first,  and  cleansed  and  closed  the  house. 
A  woman  died  at  212  North  Street,  sick  but  five 
hours  ;  while  we  were  removing  the  body  a  woman 
named  Mary  McGuire,  aged  fifty  years,  in  a  fit  of 
delirium  tremens ,  jumped  from  the  chamber- 
window  to  the  ground,  a  distance  of  twenty  feet ; 
we  took  her  up  for  dead,  and  carried  her  to  the 
Station  House,  but  she  recovered,  not  being  seri¬ 
ously  injured. 

A  laborer  died  at  No.  6  Battery  Street;  this 
evening  we  removed  the  body.  I  shall  long 
remember  the  sad  work  of  those  two  days. 

July  7.  A  man  was  brought  into  the  Station 


268 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


House  from  Mechanic  Street,  insensible  ;  it  proved 
to  be  sun-stroke  —  he  recovered  in  a  few  hours. 

A  man  died  of  cholera  at  No.  10  Hanover 
Avenue  —  sick  twelve  hours  —  his  wife  was  sick  in 
the  same  house  —  his  body  was  removed.  The 
house  being  neat,  and  no  others  sick  there,  she  was 
not  removed. 

July  9.  A  woman,  at  231  Hanover  Street,  died 
to-day  after  an  illness  of  twelve  hours  ;  assistance 
was  rendered,  but  the  body  was  buried  by  the 
friends. 

July  13.  A  child  at  the  Beehive  in  Endicott 
Street  died,  being  sick  fifteen  hours.  The  father 
died  the  same  evening,  after  an  illness  of  ten 
hours.  The  wife  was  also  taken  about  the  time 
the  husband  died.  The  bodies  of  the  father  and 
child  decayed  very  fast,  and  were  removed  by  us 
that  night,  and  the  mother  was  removed  to  the 
hospital. 

The  Beehive  consists  of  two  blocks  of  wooden 
buildings,  end  to  the  street,  separated  by  a  narrow 
passage,  each  block  containing  twenty-four  rooms. 
There  are,  in  these  forty-eight  rooms,  forty-eight 
families,  and  two  hundred  and  eight  persons. 
By  the  direction  of  the  Board  of  Health,  we  re-* 
moved  the  families  in  one  block. 

* 

July  14.  A  man  died  at  No.  116  Friend  Street 
—  sick  ten  hours  —  the  body  commenced  to  putrefy 
immediately  ;  we  carried  him  to  the  Dead  House. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


269 


July  15.  A  report  came  that  there  was  cholera 
at  !No.  92  Endicott  Street.  On  going  there,  I 
found  no  cholera,  but  something  that  required  my 
attention.  A  woman  was  lying  on  the  door  dead 
drunk,  and  beside  the  drunken  mother  lay  an  in¬ 
fant  child  nearly  naked  of  clothing,  but  half  cov¬ 
ered  with  lice.  Another  woman  was  lying  drunk 
in  the  roam,  which  was  filthy  in  the  extreme.  I 
learned  that  the  family  consisted  of  the  mother, 
six  children,  and  three  boarders,  and  they  all  occu¬ 
pied  but  two  rooms.  Why  the  cholera  had  not 
found  them  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know.  The  whole 
were  however  removed ;  the  mother  to  the  House 
of  Industry,  where  the  father  had  already  gone,  the 
children  to  the  Almshouse,  leaving  the  boarders 
to  select  new  quarters. 

A  man  was  taken  with  cholera  at  406  Commer¬ 
cial  Street  \  we  removed  him  to  the  hospital,  where 
he  died  next  day. 

A  man  died  at  155  Charlestown  Street  —  sick 
fifteen  hours  —  we  removed  his  body.  A  woman 
died  at  No.  119  Friend  Street  —  sick  but  ten 
hours  —  body  immediately  became  black  and  pu¬ 
trid,  was  very  difficult  to  remove.  A  man  was 
brought  to  the  Station  House  intoxicated,  attacked 
with  cholera  while  there,  removed  to  the  hospital, 
and  died  in  a  few  hours. 

Irom  this  date,  up  to  about  the  first  of  August, 
the  weather  -  became  cooler,  the  atmosphere  more 

23* 


270 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


clear,  and  the  disease  seemed  to  abate.  There 
were  several  cases  of  smallpox,  and  some  deaths 
by  ship  fever,  but  these  diseases,  fatal  as  they  are, 
had  lost  their  terrors  during  the  prevalence  of  the 
cholera. 

August  2.  The  weather  again  became  sultry, 
and  cholera  began  again  to  appear.  A  woman 
died  at  No.  18  North  Bennet  Street,  —  sick  six¬ 
teen  hours,  —  she  was  buried  by  friends.  A 
woman  was  removed  from  Jefferson’s  Block  to  the 
hospital.  A  member  of  our  own  Police  Station 
died  at  his  residence,  No.  1  Bennet  Avenue,  after 
a  most  distressing  illness  of  twelve  hours ;  his 
body  turned  black  immediately  after  death,  and  it 
was  necessary  to  bury  it  without  delay.  We  also 
removed  a  woman  in  a  dying  condition  from  No. 
554  Commercial  Street. 

August  7.  A  case  occurred  this  morning  wrhieh 
tended  to  add  to  the  horror  of  our  duties.  An  old 
man,  who  occupied  a  room  on  the  second  floor, 
No.  84  Cross  Street,  had  been  absent  from  his 
room  some  eight  days ;  this  was  not  particularly 
noticed  by  the  other  occupants,  as  he  was  fre¬ 
quently  absent  some  days  at  a  time.  For  a  day 
or  two  prior  to  this  day,  the  people  in  the  house 
had  noticed  an  offensive  smell ;  this  morning  it 
wras  found  to  come  from  this  man’s  room ;  his 
door  wras  tried,  but  found  fastened,  and  notice  was 
given  at  the  Station  House.  I  wrent  dowrn  and 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS.  271 

procui  ed  a  ladder,  which  I  placed  on  the  outside 
and  went  up  and  raised  the  window  to  the  room, 
but  a  stench  met  me  that  I  could  not  withstand, 
and  I  came  near  falling  from  the  ladder.  After 
the  foul,  confined  air  had  somewhat  escaped  from 
the  room,  I  entered  the  window.  I  there  found 
neai  one  corner  of  the  room  a  man  standing  erect, 
leaning  backward  a  little  with  one  foot  on  the 
round  of  a  chair  standing  near,  with  a  rope  about 
his  neck  attached  to  a  hook  overhead.  He  was 
as  stiff  as  a  bronze  statue,  and  his  features  were 
so  blackened  and  decayed  that  no  one  could  recog¬ 
nize  them,  yet  I  knew  from  the  figure  and  dress 
that  it  was  the  body  of  the  missing  man.  He 
had  in  all  probability  hung  himself  and  remained 
in  that  position  about  eight  days.  My  eyes  never 
beheld  such  a  sight,  —  I  hope  never  to  see  such 
another.  The  coroner  was  called,  who  took  charge 
of  the  body. 

August  8.  A  woman  died  of  cholera  at  No.  131 
Charlestown  Street.  We  removed  the  body  and 
cleansed  the  room. 

August  11.  A  man  died  at  No.  129  Charles¬ 
town  Street  —  sick  twelve  hours  —  body  decayed 
so  as  to  make  the  burial  of  immediate  necessity. 

A  man  died  at  163  Charlestown  Street  —  sick  but 
ten  hours  body  so  swollen  we  could  not  put  it 
in  the  coffin,  and  removed  it  in  a  box. 

August  14.  A  man  came  to  the  Station  House 


272 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


for  lodging,  while  there  he  was  attacked  with 
cholera,  and  taken  to  the  hospital. 

A  woman  at  No.  1  Crescent  Place,  and  two 
others  at  No.  6  Battery  Street,  were  removed  to  the 
hospital. 

August  17.  We  removed  a  man  from  Page's 
yard  to  the  hospital. 

August  21.  Several  persons  wTere  sick  at  a 
place  called  the  Platform,  in  Causeway  Street, 
many  of  them  having  gone  there  to  be  sick  with 
then*  friends,  rather  than  go  the  hospital.  We 
commenced  an  investigation,  found  twenty-nine 
families  huddled  together  in  a  very  small  place, 
and  as  filthy  a  place  as  I  ever  saw.  I  was  an  un¬ 
welcome  visitor,  and  the  occupants  would  have 
driven  me  out  had  they  dared.  I  found  several 
persons  sick,  and  by  direction  of  the  Board  of 
Health  removed,  five  persons  and  a  child  to  the 
hospital.  The  people  there  were  very  determined, 
and  the  sick  wrere  removed  with  much  difficulty. 
The  next  day  the  Board  of  Health  passed  a  special 
order  to  clear  the  premises,  which  was  accom¬ 
plished  with  great  difficulty,  some  of  the  occupants 
making  a  strong  resistance.  True,  it  seemed'  a 
hard  case,  but  no  one  who  saw  the  premises  could 
doubt  the  necessity. 

There  were  many  cases  of  a  less  serious  charac¬ 
ter  taking  place  on  our  Station,  which  are  not 
copied  in  this  account,  in  which  it  became  my  duty 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


273 


to  lend  a  hand,  but  these  last  mentioned  were 

about  the  last  cases  of  cholera  occurring  in  Boston 
this  year. 

During  the  prevalence  of  this  dreadful  malady 
nearly  the  whole  police  force  on  my  district  were 
continually  employed  in  caring  for  the  sick  and  dy¬ 
ing,  and  removing  the  dead,  and  on  no  occasion  do  I 
believe  that  any  man  shrank  from  his  task.  These 
noble  fellows,  many  days  in  the  discharge  of  their 
fearful  duties,  were  meeting  death  face  to  face  in 
its  most  fearful  form,  and  the  disinterested  sacrifice 
offered  up  by  them  is  worthy  of  a  lasting  remem¬ 
brance. 

In  pursuing  my  own  duties  through  this  ordeal 
of  disease  and  terror,  I  could  take  little  precaution. 

I  sometimes  took  a  few  cloves  in  my  mouth,  and 
sometimes  after  being  a  long  time  exposed  to  the 
most  insupportable  stench,  and  experiencing  a 
dizzy  nausea,  I  have  taken  a  few  drops  of  laudanum 
in  a  spoonful  of  brandy,  but  I  ate  no  green  thing. 
No  one  could  go  where  I  went  and  see  what  I  saw 
without  dread.  I  knew  by  sad  experience  the  in¬ 
describable  suffering  attending  this  fearful  disease, 
having  had  an  attack  that  nearly  cost  me  my  life  a 
few  years  previous.  T  he  Cholera  —  no  pen,  no 
tongue,  no  thought,  no  imagination  can  depict  its 

tenors.  Tis  death  and  desolation  stalking  abroad 
at  noonday 


SMALL  MATTERS. 


One  afternoon  in  the  month  of  January,  1856,  a 
man  who  enjoyed  the  reputation  of  being  a  well-to- 
do  and  respectable  citizen,  came  to  the  Station  and 
required  the  services  of  an  officer  in  ferreting  out 
some  thieving  operations  that  had  been  consum¬ 
mated  in  his  house,  freely  expressing  the  opinion 
that  the  theft  could  he  readily  traced  to  Bridget, 
the  domestic. 

As  such  cases  were  not  uncommon,  an  officer 
was  detailed  to  accompany  the  gentleman  to  his 
house  to  make  the  necessary  investigation.  On 
arriving  at  the  house  and  instituting  an  inquiry, 
the  officer  found  that  the  lady  of  the  house  had 
been  out  to  the  provision  store  and  purchased  two 
quarts  of  small  apples,  which  were  placed  in  the 
hands  of  Bridget  to  prepare  for  pies.  Bridget  had 
paired  and  sliced  them  carefully,  and  made  them 
into  two  pies,  having  two  apples  left.  This  was 
not  satisfactory  to  the  mistress,  and  Jerry,  the  half- 
grown  son,  gave  it  as  his  decided  opinion  that  two 
quarts  of  apples  would  make  at  least  three  pies, 


KECOLLECTIONS. 


lUght  so  too.  In  talking  the  matte! 


..although . «o  uie  nisi  8U8- 

picion,  yet  it  was  carried  by  a  majority  that  in  this 
case  at  least,  Bridget  must  have  been  dishonest. 

ter  settlll,g  ^t  point  satisfactorily,  it  was 
further  decided  that  if  Bridget  was  so  dishonest  as 
to  pilfer  pie  apples  she  would  take  something  else 
winch  she  certainly  had  many  an  opportunity  to 
do,  altnough  nothing  had  been  missed  ;  but  when 

*  7S  reC0llected  ^  Bridget  had  in  her  chamber 
7  77’  suspwious-looking  trunk,  the  inside  oi 
ich  had  been  seen  by  none  of  the  family,  and 
when  in  consequence  of  all  these  circumstances, 

trunk  T  T  7l  bee“  qUiGtIy  Visited>  and  ‘hat 
trunk  was  found  to  be  locked,  the  landlady  de¬ 
cked  she  could  stand  such  “ carryings  on  ”  no 

onger,  and  on  consulting  the  husband  they  con¬ 
cluded  to  call  in  the  officer. 

The  whole  case  was  explained  to  the  officer  in 
presence  of  Bridget  and  the  whole  family,  and 

I  inside  f  r  7  haVe  a  search  instituted 

o  tnat  suspicious  trunk.  It  would  have 

been  hard  to  tell  which  was  the  most  astonished  at 

the  proceedings,  Bridget  or  the  officer. 

thiefLBridf Wh°’  by  thG  Way>  was  either  a 
thief  nor  a  fool,  scanned  the  features  of  the  officer 

the^  i,TmT’  and  detectinS  nothing  malicious 
here,  but  rather  perhaps  an  indication  of  contempt 

for  her  accusers,  and  an  expression  of  sympathy 


276 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


for  her,  in  her  unprotected  condition, 
said,  “  Come  up  to  me  room,”  and* 
whole  injured  family  followed  by  the  officer* 

On  reaching  her  room  Bridget  threw  open  her 
trunk,  exclaiming,  66  we  hear  enough.  Now  there, 
mem,  ye  may  sarch  me  ould  duds  an’  ye  will,  and 
much  may  ye  find  among  ’em ;  but  I  tell  ye, 
mem,  two  quarts  of  yer  little  pesky  wormy  apples 
wont  make  more  than  two  pies  any  way.’ 

The  injured  family  appeared  satisfied,  and  the 
officer  quietly  retired  from  the  house,  and  in  a  few 
[ays  the  honest,  hard-working  Bridget  found  a 
better  place  at  better  pay. 


\ 


| •  m 

- 

I  .  VALUE  OF  CHARACTER. 


| 

There  are  seemingly  many  people  plodding 
I  their  way  along  through  life  without  any  just  com- 
j  prehension  of  the  value  of  a  good  character.  The 
rich  can  live  without  it,  but  it  is  the  poor  man’s 
capital,  and  by  him,  above  all  others,  it  should  be 
I  held  and  cherished  as  a  jewel  above  price. 

Although  this  feeling,  or  rather  want  of  it,  is 
much  too  common  among  mankind,  yet  X  am  happy 
to  know  that  it  is  by  no  means  universal,  and  I 
have  seen  some  laughable,  as  well  as  grave  instan¬ 
ces,  plainly  indicating  that  the  value  of  a  good 
name  is  often  well  understood  in  the  very  hum¬ 
blest  walks  of  life. 

On  a  certain  occasion,  an  honest  laborer  came 
to  the  Station  House  and  requested  me  to  take 
charge  of  a  trunk  which  he  said  belonged  to  one 
Kitty  Quadd.  It  had  been  left  with  him  while  Kitty 
|  was  absent  in  the  country.  He  was  about  to  move, 
and  the  trunk  was  a  burden,  and  he  wished  to 
leave  it  with  me  for  safe  keeping  till  Kitty’s  return, 
j  To  accommodate  him  I  took  the  name  of  the 

o4 


278  POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 

owner,  made  a  schedule  of  the  few  articles  in  the 
trunk,  and  set  it  away  in  the  property  room  for 
safety. 

About  two  months  after,  a  buxom  Irish  girl 
called  at  the  Station  House,  saying  that  her  name 
was  Kitty  Quadd,  and  she  was  told  that  I  had  her 
trunk.  After  asking  her  some  questions,  to  see  if 
it  was  right,  the  trunk  was  brought  out  and  deliv¬ 
ered. 

-Kitty’s  eyes  glistened  with  joy  as  she  beheld  her 
treasure,  but  said  she,  “  It ’s  not  the  value  of  me 
clothing,  sir,  hut  it ’s  me  character  that ’s  there,  me 
character  it  is.”  And  hurrying  her  hand  into  the 
pocket  of  an  old  dress  as  she  lifted  it  from  the 
trunk,  she  drew  forth  a  dirty  piece  of  paper  with 
much  apparent  satisfaction.  “  This  is  it,  an’  sure 
enough  it’s  safe  it  is,  and  it’s  yerself  that  shall 
read  it  too,  for  yer  kindness,”  said  she. 

I  unfolded  the  paper  and  read  as  follows :  — 

“  This  certifies  that  Kitty  Quadd  is  a  good  domestic, 
capable  of  doing  all  kinds  of  work,  but  she  will  get  drunk 
when  opportunity  offers.”  (Signed)  Mrs.  S — 

“  Pretty  good,  Kitty,”  said  I. 

“  Pretty  good  ;  and  well  ye  may  say  that,”  said 
she,  folding  the  paper  and  placing  it  carefully  in 
her  bosom.  “  Pretty  good  it  is  ;  it  is  me  character 
sir,  and ’t  is  well  earned  too ;  but  it  is  well  worn, 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


279 


and  I  am  going  to  get  Biddy  Harrigan,  me  first 
cousin,  to  copy  it ;  ”  and  she  marched  off  with  her 
trunk  and  her  character,  as  happy  as  a  queen. 


A  WEDDING  IN  THE  TOMBS. 


It  is  generally  known  to  the  citizens  of  Boston, 
that  there  are  numerous  small-sized,  convenient 
little  rooms  in  the  basement  of  the  Court  House  on 
the  easterly  side,  with  brick  walls  and  iron-grated 
doors,  with  a  bunk,  a  pail,  and  a  tin  cup  for  furni¬ 
ture,  where  persons  of  almost  every  age,  sex,  and 
color  find  entertainment,  in  consequence  of  a  neg¬ 
lect  to  conform  to  the  various  rules  and  regulations 
established  by  the  usages  and  customs  of  the 
society  in  which  they  dwell.  These  various  apart¬ 
ments  constitute  what  are  familiarly  known  as  the 
Tombs ;  and  although  the  name  might  impress  a 
stranger  with  grave  sensations,  yet  there  are  times 
when  the  name  would  hardly  be  suspected  from 
the  character  of  the  tenants.  For  although  the 
name  might  seem  to  indicate  to  the  contrary,  it  is 
nevertheless  inhabited  by  live  men  and  women, 
where  coffee  and  white  bread  are  plentifully  served 
out  every  morning  for  breakfast,  and  I  have  even 
seen  it  turned  into  the  drawing-room  of  a  bridal 
party.  The  circumstance  was  on  this  wise. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


281 


In  tlie  summer  of  1861,  it  happened  that  a  lad 
who  we  will  call  Arthur  Clarke,  and  a  lady  we 
will  call  Johanna  Hickey,  were-  quite  intimate. 
J ohanna  at  first  thought  it  was  only  between  herself 
and  Arthur,  but  by  and  by  there  began  to  be  indi¬ 
cations  that  there  might  erelong  he  a  third  party 
in  interest. 

J  ohanna  began  to  be  fidgety,  but  Arthur  was  in 
no  hurry  to  marry.  Johanna  did  not  feel  inclined 
to  pocket  the  insult,  and  at  her  suggestion  Arthur 
one  morning  waked  up  in  the  Tombs.  On  a  little 
reflection,  Arthur  concluded  he  was  ready  to  marry , 
and  Johanna  being  nothing  loth,  there  seemed  to 
be  no  obstacle  to  interpose.  A  certificate  of  inten¬ 
tion  was  procured  by  some  friend  of  the  parties, 
and  precisely  at  twelve  o’clock  noon,  Arthur  and 
J  ohanna  met  by  appointment  in  the  superintend¬ 
ent’s  office.  The  good-natured  Esquire  Beal  vol¬ 
unteered  his  services,  and  in  presence  of  several 
witnesses  the  ceremonies  commenced.  The  bride 
and  groom  were  placed  side  by  side,  fronting  the 
desk,  which  was  occupied  by  the  worthy  Justice, 
who,  with  certificate  of  intention  in  hand,  and  un¬ 
covered  head  proclaimed,  “  Has  any  person  aught 
to  say  why  Arthur  Clarke  and  Johanna  Hickey 
should  not  be  joined  in  wedlock,  let  him  say  it  now 
or  ever  hold  his  peace  hereafter.”  All  were  silent. 
“  Ho  you,  Arthur  Clarke,  take  this  woman  to  be  your 
lawful  wedded  wife.”  Arthur  winked.  “  And  do 

24* 


282 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


you,  Johanna  Hickey,  take  this  man  to  be  your  law¬ 
ful  wedded  husband.”  Johanna  smacked  her  lips. 

“  If  you  mutually  assent,”  said  the  Justice,  “  you 
will  take  each  other  by  the  right  hand.”  Johanna 
stuck  out  a  paw,  but  Arthur  had  no  right  hand, 
that  was  gone,  but  he  presented  his  left,  which 
seemed  to  answer  the  purpose.  And  now  said 
the  Justice,  “  By  virtue  of  the  power  vested  in  me  - 
by  the  Commonwealth,  I  pronounce  you  man  and 
wife,  and  what  God  hath  joined  together  let  no  man  put 
asunder .”  Arthur  and  Johanna  looked  at  each  other 
as  if  they  did  not  quite  understand  the  last  sentence, 
but  neither  attempted  to  make  any  inquiries  in 
relation  to  the  subject,  but  remained  motionless,  to 
see  what  came  next. 

After  a  while  Arthur  began  to  examine  his 
locomotive  apparatus,  as  if  to  satisfy  himself  of  the 
power  of  the  new  shackles  with  which  he  had 
been  bound,  and  whether  they  were  as  potent  as 
those  he  had  left  at  the  cell,  and  apparently 
becoming  satisfied  on  that  point,  he  took  a  bee  line 
for  the  door.  Johanna  soon  followed  in  his  wake 
and  both  disappeared,  leaving  the  spectators 
gaping  at  the  door  that  closed  behind  them. 

That  proceeding  may  have  vindicated  the  maj¬ 
esty  of  the  law,  but  whether  Esquire  Beal’s  last 
remark  was  correct,  I  was  always  in  doubt. 


OLD  BUILDINGS. 


During  the  summer  of  1859,  the  City  Govern¬ 
ment  widened  North  Street,  by  removing  some 
buildings  and  cutting  off  others  on  one  or  the 
other  side  of  nearly  the  whole  length  of  that  an¬ 
cient  thoroughfare. 

Many  of  these  old  houses,  for  most  of  the  build¬ 
ings  were  dwellings,  were  objects  of  much  interest, 
as  they  were  one  after  another  about  to  disappear, 
both  on  account  of  their  peculiar  structure  and 
apparent  great  age. 

v  Having  considerable  extra  police  duty  in  that 
locality,  on  account  of  the  work  of  widening,  in 
common  with  others  I  took  much  interest  in  the 
history  of  these  ancient  relics  and  old  landmarks, 
as  they  were  disappearing  forever,  and  during  the 
progress  of  their  removal  I  made  some  observa¬ 
tions  which  I  thought  might  be  worthy  of  note. 

Although  many  of  the  houses  bear  the  marks 
of  great  age,  yet  to  fix  the  date  of  the  building  of 
most  of  them  with  any  degree  of  certainty  was 
quite  impossible.  Deeds  can  be  traced  back, 


284 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


showing  the  locality  and  names  of  owners  of  most 
of  the  estates  to  an  early  date,  but  when  build¬ 
ings  now  standing  were  erected  is  quite  another 
affair.  Most  of  the  older  class  of  buildings  were 
built  one  or  one  and  a  half  stories  high,  with  vari¬ 
ous  additions  to  one  end  or  the  other,  and  at  top 
in  after  time,  bat  often  the '“addition  will  show 
greater  marks  of  decay  than  the  original,  and  the 
age  of  either  is  an  equal  uncertainty. 

By  close  observation,  however,  it  is  evident  that 
something  may  be  gathered  from  the  kind  of 
material  used,  the  style  in  architecture,  and  man¬ 
ner  of  building  at  different  periods,  to  indicate 
the  age  of  both  wood  and  brick  buildings. 

The  former,  the  low-studded,  two-story  struc¬ 
tures  with  heavy  oak  timbers,  the  second  story 
projecting  far  over  the  sidewalk,  with  Lutheran 
windows,  oak  clapboards,  and  triangular  floor  tim¬ 
bers,  denote  the  greater  age  of  this  class  of  build¬ 
ings.  Specimens  of  this  style  are  still  to  be  seen 
at  Nos.  19  and  27  North  Square,  comer  of  Moon 
and  Sun  Court  Streets,  Salem,  opposite  Cooper 
Street,  and  in  some  other  localities  in  the  city. 

Something  a  little  more  definite,  however,  may,  I 
believe,  be  gained  relative  to  the  age  of  brick 
buildings,  not  only  from  their  peculiar  structure 
and  style  of  architecture,  but  from  the  size  of  the 
bricks,  the  composition  of  the  mortar,  and  the  dif¬ 
ferent  styles  of  the  walls  at  different  periods  of 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


285 


time.  The  first  walls  laid  in  Boston  were  in 
clay  mortar,  mixed  with  a  lime  made  by  burn¬ 
ing  shells,  which  can  at  this  late  day  be  easily 
detected  by  close  observation.  This  mortar  was 
used  in  the  “  Deacon  Phillips’s  Old  Stone  House,” 
Cross  Street,  “  Noah’s  Ark,”  corner  North  and 
Clark  Street,  66  Old  Province  House,”  Province 
House  Court,  “  Old  Peed  Store,”  Change  Avenue 
and  Basement,  “  Old  Feather  Store,”  Dock  Square. 

The  first  brick  houses  also  were  built  of  im¬ 
ported  bricks,  which  are  somewhat  larger  and 
thicker  than  those  first  made  in  New  England. 

There  have  been  several  different  styles  of  laying 
brick  walls  since  the  first  settlement  of  Boston, 
which  more  clearly  indicate  the  age  of  brick  build¬ 
ings.  These  styles  are  called  bonds,  and  consist 
in  laying  “  headers  ”  and  “  stretchers  ”  alternately, 
as  they  appear  in  the  outer  surface  of  the  wall,  a 
“  header  ”  being  the  end  of  the  brick  appearing  on 
the  face  of  the  wall,  and  a  “  stretcher  ”  the  edge. 
The  styles  consist  in  laying  the  headers  and  stretch¬ 
ers  in  different  form,  and  have  been  known  to 
masons  at  different  periods  as  the  “  English  Bond,” 
“  Promiscuous  Bond,”  “  Flemish  Bond,”  “  Tile 
Bond,”  and  “  Modern  Flemish  Bond,”  each  of  which 
was  the  style  of  laying  brick  walls  in  buildings 
at  different  periods. 

These  styles  may  be  better  understood  by  the 
following  table,  which  shows  the  front  in  the  dif- 
Bon  Is  in  brick  walls  :  — 


286 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


ENGLISH  BOND. 

This  style  consists  of  &  course  of  stretchers  and  a  course 
of  headers  alternately,  and  was  in  use  from  1647  to  about 
1723. 


ft 

1 

1 

1 

PROMISCUOUS  BONDS. 

The  Promiscuous  Bond  consisted  of  a  course  of  headers, 
and  from  three  to  eight  courses  of  stretchers,  according  to 
the  fancy  of  the  builder,  and  was  in  use  from  about  1720 
to  1770. 


1 

1 

FLEMISH  BOND. 

The  Flemish  Bond  is  a  header  and  stretcher  laid  alter¬ 
nately  in  the  same  course,  each  course  being  laid  alike,  and 
was  in  use  from  about  1770  to  1810. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


287 


TILE  BOND. 


Tile  Bond  every  course  alike  at  the  surface,  laying  a  tile 
or  eight-inch  square  brick  in  place  of  a  header,  in  use  from 
about  1820  to  1855. 


1 

1 

1 

MODERN  FLEMISH  BOND. 

The  Modern  Flemish  Bond  consists  of  a  header  and  a 
stretcher  alternately  in  one  course,  and  the  next  eight  or 
ten  courses  being  wholly  stretchers,  when  a  header  and 
stretcher  are  again  laid.  This  style  has  been  in  use  since 
about  1855. 


1  1 

\ 

r 


i 


The  following  table  shows  the  style  of  bond  and 
the  date  of  erecting  the  buildings  named :  — 

i 

ENGLISH  BOND. 

1647,  Noah’s  Ark,  corner  North  and  Clark  streets. 

1679,  Old  Province  House  (Ordway  Hall). 

1680,  Basement  Old  Feather  Store,  Dock  Square. 


288 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


1687,  Old  Reed  Store,  ’Change  Avenue. 

1712,  Part  of  Old  Town  House,  head  of  State  Street. 
1723,  Christ  Church,  Salem  Street. 

PROMISCUOUS  BOND. 

1720  No.  6  Margaret  St.,  Nos.  21-3  Richmond  St. 

to  Nos.  21,  23-73  Charter  St.,  Nos.  125-148  Prince 
1770,  Street. 

FLEMISH  BOND. 

1773,  Brattle  Street  Church. 

1729,  Old  South  Church. 

1795,  Old  Part  State  House. 

1804,  Parkman  Church. 

1806,  Lynde  Street,  Chambers  Street,  and  Belknap  Street 
churches. 

1809-10,  Park  Street  and  Baldwin  Place  churches. 

TILE,  OR  IRON  BOND. 

1822,  Old  Hancock  Schoolhouse. 

1824,  Charles  Street  Church. 

1826,  Green  Street  Church. 

1828,  Bennet  and  Salem  Street  churches. 

1835-6,  Merrimac  and  Pitts  Street  churches. 

1838,  Streeter’s  Church.  ' 

1843,5,  Canal  Block  and  Maine  Depot. 

1848,9,  New  Hancock  Schoolhouse,  &c.  &c. 

MODERN  FLEMISH  BOND. 

See  buildings  since  1855. 

From  the  commencement  of  building  brick 
buildings  in  Boston  to  about  the  year  1710  to  1720, 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


289 


there  seems,  so  far  as  can  be  known,  to  have  been 
but  one  style  of  laying  bricks  ;  that  style  is  called 
the  English  Bond,  and  was  laid  so  as  to  show  on 
the  face  a  course  of  headers  and  a  course  of 
stretchers  laid  alternately  throughout  the  building. 
Although  several  specimens  of  this  bond  are 
shown  in  the  table,  yet  I  know  of  but  two  build¬ 
ings  now  left  standing  entire,  viz  :  the  old  Town 
Hpuse,  built  in  1712,  and  partly  destroyed  by  fire, 
and  rebuilt,  preserving  the  same  style,  in  1745; 
the  other,  Christ  Church,  in  Salem  Street,  built 
1723.  A  part  of  the  walls  only  of  some  others  in 
the  table  now  remain.  There  were  many  to  be 
seen  in  North  Street  before  the  street  was  widened. 

The  Promiscuous  Bond,  which  was  in  use  from 
about  1720  to  1770,  consisting  of  a  course  of 
headers  and  three,  four,  five,  six,  or  seven  course 
of  stretchers,  are  met  with  much  more  frequently 
than  the  old  English  Bond,  but  yet  the  buildings 
have  a  very  aged  appearance. 

The  Flemish  Bond  in  use  from  about  1770  to 
1810,  are  much  more  common,  being  seen  in 
nearly  all  the  principal  streets.  The  Tile,  or  Iron 
Bond,  from  1820  to  1850,  came  in  use  about 
the  time  faced  bricks  were  first  manufactured. 
This  bond  has  the  appearance  of  continued  courses 
of  stretchers,  the  bond  being  formed  by  laying  in  a 
fiat  piece  of  iron  between  the  courses,  which  are 
not  seen  on  the  outer  surface  or  by  the  use  of 

25 


290 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


square  tiles,  being  the  same  as  two  bricks  struck 
together. 

A  building  which  was  removed  near  the  foot  of 
North  Street,  in  the  course  of  widening  that  street, 
attracted  much  attention  in  consequence  of  having 
circular  openings  through  the  outer  walls,  and  by 
some  was  thought  to  have  been  some  military  forti¬ 
fication  in  former  times.  The  building  was  but 
eighteen  by  twenty-seven  feet  in  size,  three  stories 
high,  and  the  walls  but  one  foot  thick,  and  seemed 
much  better  adapted  to  use  as  a  dwelling-house 
than  a  fortification.  The  circular  windows  are  no 
bar  to  this  opinion,  as  such  may  still  be  seen  at 
numerous  churches  and  stores  both  of  ancient  and 
modern  date 


DEACON  PHILLIPS’S  OLD  STONE  HOUSE. 


The  Old  Stone  House,  which  for  more  than  two 
centuries  had  nobly  withstood  the  ravages  of  time, 
has  at  length  disappeared.  It  stood  on  the  east 
side  of  Cross  Street,  about  half  way  between  North 
and  Hanovei  streets,  and  when  removed  was  one 
of  the  oldest  buildings  in  Boston. 

By  whom  this  venerable  pile  was  erected  is  now 
unknown,  but  old  Deacon  Phillips,  of  the  Second 
Church,  dwelt  within  these  strong  walls  many 
years.  Mr.  Phillips  died  Dec.  22,  1682,  at  the 
good  old  age  of  seventy-seven  years,  leaving  his 
lands  and  other  worldly  estate  to  his  grandchildren, 
making  reservation  for  Sarah,  “  the  wife  of  his  old 
age,”  and  for  his  only  daughter,  Mary,  the  wife  of 
George  Mountjoy,  of  Piscataqua. 

The  estate  passed  down  in  the  possession  of  the 
Mountjoys  and  other  descendants  of  the  deacon, 
until  it  came  to  Edward  Proctor  and  others.  In 
the  year  1793,  William  Williams  became  the 
owner,  who  sold  it  to  Thomas  Williams  in  1810, 
and  Thomas  sold  it  to  John  Sullivan  in  1816,  since 


292 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


<,  ' 

which  time  the  history  of  the  estate  is  well  known. 
The  estate  has  been  leased  to  Mr.  John  Cochran, 
and  by  him  underlet  to  various  Irish  families,  for 
more  than  thirty  years. 

When  Goodman  Phillips  resided  here,  his  neigh¬ 
bor  toward  Middle  Street  was  Mr.  J ohn  Turell ; 
on  the  north  was  George  Burrill;  he  had  no 
neighbor  on  the  east,  his  estate  extending  to  Fish 
Street  by  the  sea. 

A  short  time  before  Deacon  Phillips  died,  he  sold 
from  his  estate  a  houselot  just  southeast  of  his 
stone  house,  to  Mr.  Christopher  Clarke,  and  other 
portions  of  the  estate  have  subsequently  been  sold 
off  on  North  Street. 

Some  of  the  owners  of  the  Old  Stone  House  in 
more  modern  times  have  made  an  addition  of  a 
third  story,  consisting  mostly  of  brick,  and  also 
changed  the  external  appearance  by  covering 
nearly  the  whole  of  it  with  boards,  clapboards,  and 
shingles. 

Credulous  persons  have  been  willing  to  believe 
that  the  old  mansion  was  once  used  as  a  prison, 
and  many  have  called  it  the  Old  Jail,  but  there  is 
no  evidence  that  it  was  ever  used  for  that  purpose. 
On  the  contrary,  from  the  time  of  Deacon  Phillips 
down,  nearly  all  the  tenants  are  known.  The 
locality  of  the  jail  also,  from  early  date,  is  shown 
to  have  been  in  Prison  Lane. 

Although  no  evidence  does  exist  that  the  Old 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


293 


Stone  House  was  ever  used  either  as  a  jail  or  for¬ 
tress,  yet  in  raising  such  a  formidable  and  costly 
stiucture  as  this  must  have  been  for  that  day,  it 
would  seem  that  the  proprietor  intended  something 
more  than  a  mere  dwelling-house.  It  will  not  be 
foi gotten  that  the  early  settlers  of  Boston,  from  the 
commencement,  in  1630,  to  the  termination  of  King 
Philip’s  war,  in  1676,  were  in  constant  dread  of 
attacks  from  the  French  and  Indians.  So  much 
were  the  people  in  fear,  that  beacons,  batteries, 
and  fortifications,  were  thrown  up  and  maintained 
for  the  protection  of  the  colony. 

The  Indians,  who  generally  made  their  depreda¬ 
tions  under  cover  of  darkness  by  stealth,  quietly 
landing  from  their  canoes,  performing  their  mis¬ 
sions  of  plunder  and  murder  on  private  families, 
and  as  quietly  retiring,  were  the  especial  dread  of 
the  inhabitants,  long  before  the  war  of  extermi¬ 
nation  was  commenced  with  the  Whmpanoag 
Indians. 

At  the  time  of  the  erection  of  the  Old  Stone 
House,  it  is  quite  probable  that  neighbors  were  not 
so  plenty  as  at  subsequent  periods ;  the  house  was 
also  located  near  a  convenient  landing-place  for  a 
hostile  foe  of  the  character  most  to  be  dreaded  ; 
and  it  may  not  be  an  improbable  supposition,  that 
the  construction  of  these  strong  walls  was  a  result 
growing  out  of  these  circumstances,  although  per¬ 
haps  never  used  for  the  purpose  for  which  they 
were  in  part  originally  fitted. 

25* 


294 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


After  the  death  of  Mr.  Elisha  Goodnow,  who 
was  owner  of  the  estate  for  many  years,  it 
was  conveyed  by  his  executor  to  the  city  of  Boston 

as  a  legacy  in  Mr.  Goodnow’s  will ;  and  in  the 

* 

month  of  April,  1864,  the  estate  was  sold  at  auc¬ 
tion  for  the  benefit  of  the  city,  and  the  Old  Stone 
House  was  removed,  not  leaving  one  stone  upon 
another. 

The  removal  offered  a  good  opportunity  to  ex¬ 
amine  the  character  and  material  of  the  original 
building. 

The  Old  Stone  House  at  first  consisted  of  two 
wings  of  uniform  size,  joining  each  other  and 
forming  a  right  angle.  Each  wing  was  forty  feet 
long,  twenty  feet  wide,  and  two  stories  high,  the 
wings  fronting  the  south  and  west.  There  was 
one  door  in  the  end  of  each  wing  on  the  first 
story,  and  a  single  circular  window  in  the*  second 
story  over  the  doors ;  there  were  also  two  circular 
windows  in  each  story  of  each  wing  in  front,  but 
neither  door  nor  window  in  either  wing  in  the 
rear.  The  foundation  walls  were  four  feet  thick, 
or  more ;  the  walls  above  ground  were  two  feet  in 
thickness,  and  built  entirely  of  small  quarried 
stones  unlike  anything  to  be  seen  in  this  neighbor¬ 
hood,  and  were  probably  brought  as  ballast  from 
some  part  of  Europe.  They  were  laid  in  clay 
mortar  throughout. 

The  timbers  were  of  live  oak,  sixteen  inches 
square,  and  are  in  a  good  state  of  preservation. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


295 


The  upper  story,  which  was  added,  was  built  of 
English  brick,  and  laid  in  lime  mortar,  and  some 
of  the  circular  windows  had  also  been  filled  with 
the  same  material,  new  doors  and  windows  having 
been  opened  through  the  thick  stone  wall. 

But  the  Old  Stone  House  has  disappeared,  and 
another  of  the  very  few  ancient  landmarks  of  old 
Boston  will  be  seen  no  more  forever. 

The  stone  which  formed  the  walls  of  the  Old 
Stone  House,  of  which  there  was  a  large  quantity, 
was  removed  to  form  the  underpinning  of  a  new 
Methodist  Church  on  Saratoga  Street,  East  Boston. 


NOAH’S  AEK. 


This  ancient  building,  which  could,  in  1860, 
be  seen  at  the  southwest  corner  of  North  and 
Clark  streets,  claimed  to  be  a  rival  in  antiquity 
with  the  Old  Feather  Store  in  Dock  Square,  the 
Old  Deacon  Phillips’s  Stone  House  in  Cross  Street, 
and  even  the  Old  Hewes  House  in  Washington 
Street,  all  of  which  have  since  been  taken  down. 

It  is  believed  that  this  brick  house,  which  for 
many  years  was  known  as  Noah’s  Ark,  was  built 
in  the  year  1647,  and  if  so,  it  had  then  been  stand¬ 
ing  two  hundred  and  thirteen  years.  It  is  quite 
certain  that  it  was  built  previous  to  1650,  and  was 
in  possession  of  a  widow  as  administratrix,  her 
husband  having  died  in  1648,  leaving  her  in  care 
of  this  estate  and  a  family  of  five  children ;  and  it 
will  be  hardly  supposed  she  would  undertake  to 
build  a  house  of  this  magnitude  within  two  years 
of  her  husband’s  death,  and  that,  too,  before  the 
estate  was  divided. 

Again,  the  house  was  built  by  a  way,  of  a  rod 
wide,  which  had  not  been  fully  completed,  early 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


291 


in  1646,  Walter  Merry  being  ordered  to  build  bis 
part  near  the  Battery,  before  the  15th  of  May  of 
that  year,  under  a  penalty  of  twenty  shillings. 

The  owner  of  this  building  improved  a  shipyard 
on  his  estate  in  1646,  and  was  familiarly  known 
among  his  contemporaries  as  Captain  Thomas 
Hawkins.  He  was  a  man  of  wealth  and  enter¬ 
prise,  and  an  extensive  shipbuilder  and  owner  for 
those  days. 

In  1643,  Capt.  Hawkins  with  one  Captain  Gib¬ 
bons,  fitted  out  four  ships  with  sixty-eight  men,  for 
the  celebrated  DeLatour  expedition  against  D’Aul- 
nay.  The  ships  were  the  Seabridge,  Philip,  Mary 
Increase,  and  Greyhound,  which  sailed  from  Long 
Island,  July  14,  and  it  was  said  “  that  no  ships 
of  like  burden  had  gone  out  before.” 

In  1645,  Captain  Hawkins  built  the  Seafort,  a 
beautiful  ship  of  four  hundred  tons  burden,  and 
himself  went  master  in  her  to  the  coast  of  Spain, 
where  he  was  wrecked,  losing  part  of  his  crew ; 
he  sold  what  was  saved  of  the  wreck  to  the  Span- 
iards,  and  returned  home. 

In  1646,  Captain  Hawkins  once  more  visited 
the  coast  of  Spain,  and  was  again  cast  away,  but 
escaped  with  his  life,  and  returned  home,  where 
he  remained  with  his  family  during  the  year  1647, 
at  which  time,  it  is  believed,  he  built  this  brick 
mansion-house,  importing  the  bricks  from  London 
in  his  own  good  ship  the  Greyhound. 


298 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


1648.  The  restless  spirit  of  Captain  Hawkins 
again  carried  him  to  sea  this  year,  when  he  was 
again  cast  away,  and  lost  his  life.  ( See  Winthrop, 
by  Savage,  vol.  2,  page  357.) 

Captain  Hawkins  left  a  widow,  Mary,  four 
daughters,  and  one  son,  viz :  Elizabeth,  Abigail, 
Hannah,  Sarah,  and  Thomas.  Mary,  the  widow, 
was  married  twice  afterward,  first  to  Mr.  Eobert 
Eenn,  who  died,  and  she  again  married  Henry 
Shrimpton.  Elizabeth  married  first  to  Adam  Win¬ 
throp  (who  died)  ;  then  to  John  Eichards.  Ab¬ 
igail  was  married  first  to  Thomas  Kellond,  and 
again  to  John  Foster.  Hannah  married  Elisha 
Hutchinson,  and  Sarah  married  James  Allen. 
Thomas  is  said  to  have  come  to  an  untimely  end. 

In  1645,  “Edward  Bendall  granted  to  Captain 
Thomas  Hawkins,  shipwright,  a  certain  parcel  of 
land  situated  in  Boston,  the  bounds  thereof  begin¬ 
ning  forty  feet  to  the  northward,  from  the  lot 
which  was  Mr.  Eobert  Thompson’s,  and  so  by 
Major  Nehemiah  Bourn’s  lot,  running  with  a 
straight  line,  according  to  Major  Bourn’s  pales,  run 
from  the  seashore  toward  the  east,  and  unto  the 
railes  of  Christopher  Stanley  towards  the  west,  the 
south  side  running  nearly  parallel  to  this.”  Dated 
30,  11,  1645.  ( See  Book-possessions,  page  23.) 

The  above-described  lot  of  land  contained  all  the 
territory  now  bounded  by  a  line  commencing  at 
the  south  end  of  Dr.  Charles  French’s  apothecary 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


299 


shop,  No.  367  Hanover  Street,  thence  easterly,  by 
the  south  line  of  said  shop  across  North  Street, 
thiough  Matthews  Block  to  the  water  on  the 
south,  by  Bartlett  Street  on  the  north,  by  Hanover 
Street  on  the  west,  and  by  the  water  on  the  east. 

North  Street  was  then  “  the  way  of  a  rod  in 
breadth,”  from  Gallop’s  point  to  the  Battery.  It 
was  afterward  known  as  Fore  Street,  and  changed 
successively  to  “Ship  Street,”  “Anne  Street,” 
“  Ann  Street,”  and  “  North  Street.” 

Clark  Street  was  an  eleven  feet  passage-way  left 
between  Mr.  Hutchinson  and  Mr.  Richards  in 
1682,  to  accommodate  Thomas  JCellond,  and  it 
was  then  known  as  “  Kellond’s  Passage,”  then 
“  Shrimpton’s  Passage,”  “  Hawkins’s  Lane,”  “  Fos¬ 
ter’s  Lane,”  “  Clark  Lane,”  and  “  Clark  Street.” 

Bartlett  Street  was  opened  at  a  later  date,  and 
was  first  called  “White  Bread  Alley,”  from  a 
bakery  located  there. 

As  has  been  shown,  Captain  Hawkins  probably 
built  his  brick  house  in  1647,  and  his  widow  is 
found  in  possession  in  1650.  On  the  12th  day 
of  April  1650,  the  selectmen  ordered  that  the 
way  of  a  rod  in  breadth,  formerly  granted,,  from 
Gallop’s  Point  to  the  Battery  (by  the  water  side), 
being  intercepted  by  widow  Hawkins,  her  brick 
house,  it  shall  turn  up  from  the  water  side,  through 
Mrs.  Hawkins,  her  garden,  and  so  by  Mr.  Win- 
throp’s  house,  between  Major  Bourn’s  house  and 


300 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


his  garden,  before  Mr.  Holyhoke’s  to  the  Battery.” 

( See  Town  Records,  vol.  1,  page  89.) 

The  way  did  so  turn  up,  and  the  western,  line 
“  of  the  way  ”  of  the  part  that  turned  up,  and  the 
east  wall  of  Mrs.  Hawkins’s  house  was  within  ten 
feet  of  said  way.  (See  Fleet’s  plan,  drawn  in 
1663,  on  which  this  brick  house  is  designated.) 
Mr.  Fleet’s  plan  of  the  premises  was  found  among 
papers  of  the  late  James  Ivers,  formerly  warden 
of  King’s  Chapel,  among  other  old  papers  that 
came  into  his  possession  from  early  proprietors  of 
the  Hawkins  estate. 

It  is  probable  that  this  “  turn  up  of  the  way,” 
as  ordered  by  the  selectmen,  was  in  part  for  the 
accommodation  of  Mr.  Winthrop,  Mr.  Bourn,  and 
Mr.  Holyhoke’s  houses,  which  were  built  just 
below,  but  stood  a  little  further  west  than  Mr. 
Hawkins’s  house.  It  is  believed  that  a  part  of  Mr. 
Winthrop’s  house  is  still  standing  in  the  rear  of 
344  North  Street. 

1653.  Mary  Fenn,  formerly  widow  of  Captain 
Thomas  Hawkins,  and  his  administratrix,  returns 
an  inventory  of  her  late  husband’s  estate,  including 
“  the  brick  house  and  lands  in  Boston,  and  asking 
for  a  division  of  the  estate  ;  which  request  was 
granted  in  1654,  she  receiving  for  her  share  the 
house  and  lands  in  Boston.”  ( See  Probate  Records, 
vol.  3,  page  101.) 

1655,  April  9.  John  Ay  let  conveys  by  mort- 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


301 


gage  to  William  Hudson,  vintner ,  44  all  that  house 
and  wharf  belonging  to  the  same,  which  is  com- 
monly  called  or  known  by  the  name  or  sign  of 
Noah's  Ark ,  situated,  lying  and  being,  at  the 
north  part  of  Boston,  late  the  inheritance  of  Cap¬ 
tain  Thomas  Hawkins,  but  now  in  possession  (or 
occupancy)  of  John  Viall.”  ( See  Beg.  Heeds,  vol. 
2,  page  244.)  There  must  have  been  a  convey¬ 
ance  of  this  estate  by  Mrs.  Fenn  to  John  Aylet, 
between  the  years  1653  and  1655,  but  as  no 
record  is  found,  however,  the  identification  is  beyond 
dispute.  Thus,  as  early  as  1655,  the  brick  house 
of  Captain  Hawkins  is  occupied  by  John  Viall, 
who  kept  an  ordinary,  or  inn,  as  it  was  known  by 
the  name  of  Noah’s  Ark. 

In  early  times,  places  of  business  were  known 
by  the  peculiarity  of  signs,  rather  than  by  numbers 
of  the  street.  In  this  ^ase,  the  proprietor  had 
placed  over  his  door  for  a  sign,  tire  model  of  a 
ship ;  but  people  said  the  model  looked  more  like 
an  old  ark  than  a  ship;  hence  the  name.  This 
was  still  occupied  as  a  noted  cake  and  beer  saloon, 
and  known  as  the  Ark  or  Ship  Tavern  within  the 
memory  of  some  now  living. 

1656,  May  6.  William  Hudson  conveyed  by 
mortgage  his  interest  in  the  44  Noah’s  Ark  ”  estate 

*• 

to  William  Phillips,  described  in  the  mortgage  of 
Aylet  to  Hudson,  which  was  not  redeemed.  (See 

Reg.  Heeds,  vol.  2,  page  289.) 

26 


302 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


1657,  June  1.  William  Hudson,  holding  a  right 
by  Aylet’s  forfeiture,  in  conjunction  with  William 
Phillips,  who  held  the  mortgage  from  Hudson, 
conveyed  by  Deed  to  Mary  Fenn,  “  All  that  gar¬ 
den,  dwelling-house,  and  wharf,  commonly  known 
by  the  name  or  sign  of  Noalis  Ark,  formerly 
the  inheritance  of  Captain  Thomas  Hawkins,  since 
of  John  Aylet  of  Boston,  by  him  mortgaged  to 
William  Hudson,  and  by  him  to  William  Phillips.” 
[See  Peg,  Deeds,  vol.  3,  page  86.) 

1657,  July  1.  Mary  Fenn  conveyed  by  deed 
to  George  Mountjoy  (Mariner,)  “  All  that  parcel 
of  land  situated  in  Boston,  butting  on  the  sea  on 
the  east,  by  Alexander  Adams  on  the  west,  and  by 
land  of  said  Mary  on  the  south,  and  on  the  south, 
being  at  the  water  side  forty-three  feet  in  breadth, 
and  at  the  upper  end  above  the  highway  thirty-five 
feet,  and  in  length  from  the  water  side  to  the  land 
of  Alexander  Adams,  on  the  west,  with  the  dwell¬ 
ing-house  thereon,  commonly  called  or  known  by 
the  name  of  Noalis  Ark .”  ( See  Peg.  Deeds,  vol. 

3,  page  88.) 

This  is  the  first  division  of  the  Hawkins  estate 
found  on  the  records,  in  which  the  bounds  of  the 
house  lot  is  well  defined. 

1663,  July  24.  George  Mountjoy  conveyed  by 
deed  to  John  Viall  (vintner),  “All  that  mes¬ 
suage,  dwelling-house,  garden,  and  wharf  com¬ 
monly  called  or  known  by  the  name  or  sign  of 


POLICE  RECOLLECTION S .  303 

* 

Noah's  Ark ,  bounded  by  the  sea  forty-three  feet, 
at  the  upper  end  above  the  highway  thirty-five  feet, 
and  extending  from  the  sea  to  Alexander  Adams 
on  the  west.”  ( See  Reg.  Deeds,  vol.  4,  page  272.) 

1682,  May  19,  in  deed  of  Elisha  Hutchinson  to 
John  Richards,  the  brick  house  of  John  Yiall  is 
mentioned  as  one  of  the  boundary  lines  to  an  ad¬ 
joining  estate.  ( See  Reg.  Deeds  vol.  12,  page  185.) 

1688,  July  17.  John  Viall  mortgaged  to  Abigail 
Kellond  “  All  his  tenement  at  the  north  part  of 
Boston  called  Ship  Tavern ,  bounded  North  by 
building  yard  formerly  of  Thomas  Hawkins,  now 
of  John  Richards,  south  by  land  of  Abigail  Kel¬ 
lond,  east  by  the  sea,  west  by  land  of  Abigail 
Kellond,  measuring  in  breadth  at  the  sea  forty-three 
feet ,  at  the  upper  end  above  the  highway ,  thirty-five 
feet  &c.”  ( See  Reg.  Deeds,  vol.  15,  page  30.) 

1695.  John  Viall  conveys  by  mortgage  to  John 
Foster  and  wife,  “All  his  tenement  at  the  north 
part  of  Boston  called  the  Ship  Tavern  (bounded 
and  described  as  heretofore),  and  being  in  breadth 
forty-three  feet  at  the  sea,  at  the  upper  end  above 
the  highway  thirty-five  feet,  &c.”  (See  Reg.  Deeds, 
vol.  17,  page  148.) 

1713,  May  14.  John  Viall  and  wife  conveyed 
to  Thomas  Hutchinson  (the  governor’s  father)  by 
deed,  as  follows:  “This  indenture,  made  the  14th 
day  of  May,  Anno  Domini,  1713,  in  the  12th  year 
of  our  Sovereign  Lady  Anne  of  Great  Britain, 


304 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


France,  and  Scotland,  Defender  of  the  Faith,  be¬ 
tween  John  Viall  of  Boston,  within  the  county  of 
Suffolk  and  Province  of  Massachusetts  Bay  in  New 
England,  Taverner ,  and  Mary  his  wife  on  the  one 
part,  and  Thomas  Hutchinson  of  Boston,  aforesaid 
merchant,  on  the  other  part.  That  the  said  John 
Viall,  for  divers  reasons  him  thereto  moving,  and 
more  especially  for  the  sum  of  nine  hundred  and  ffty 
'pounds  of  lawful  money  to  him  paid,  conveys  (&c.) 
All  that  certain  messuage  or  tenement  commonly 
called  or  known  by  the  name  of  the  Ship  Tavern , 
heretofore  as  Noah's  Ark ,  containing  a  large  brick 
dwelling-house  (&c.  &c.)  ,  lying  at  the  north  part 
of  Boston,  a  part  above  and  a  part  below  the  high¬ 
way  or  street  called  Ship  Street,  and  bounded 
west  by  land  of  Thomas  Hutchinson,  formerly 
Alexander  Adams,  thirty-five  feet  extending  east¬ 
erly  across  the  street,  being  forty-three  feet  in 
breadth  at  the  water  side.  ( See  Beg.  Deeds,  vol. 
34,  page  80.) 

1714.  Thomas  Hutchinson  had  a  permit  from 
the  selectmen,  to  build  a  dwelling-house  on  that 
part  of  the  John  Viall  estate  formerly  occupied  by 
him  as  a  brewhouse.  This  old  brewhouse  was 
the  one  in  which  Mr.  John  Viall  brewed  his  beer, 
which  was  then  of  world-wide  reputation.  ( See 
Town  Becords,  vol.  2,  page  280.)  Matthews 
Block  at  the  corner  of  North  and  Clark  Street,  now 
covers  the  ground  where  the  old  brewhouse  stood, 


i 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


305 


the  new  building  having  been  erected  in  1853. 
It  was  burnt  down  and  again  built  in  1861.  The 
dock  had  been  filled  in,  and  that  part  of  Clark 
Street  was  opened  in  1714.  The  building  below 
Clark  Street  was  never  known  as  Noah’s  Ark.  as 
some  have  supposed. 

1739,  Oct.  10.  “  In  the  13th  year  of  King 

George  III.,  Thomas  Hutchinson  (father  of  the 
Governor)  made  his  will,  dividing  his  large  estate 
between  his  two  sons,  Thomas  and  Foster,  and 
four  daughters.  Sarah  Welsteed,  wife  of  Rev. 
William  Welsteed;  Abigail  Davenport,  widow; 
Hannah  Mather,  wife  of  Rev.  Samuel  Mather,  and 
Lydia  Rogers,  giving  his  wife  Sarah  the  income  of 
most  of  his  real  estate  during  her  life.  In  this 
will  is  found  the  following  — 

o 

“  Item.  I  give  and  devise  to  my  daughter  Han¬ 
nah  Mather,  wife  of  Rev.  Samuel  Mather,  her 
heirs  forever,  my  brick  house  and  land  in  Ship 
Street,  which  is  now  rented  to  Thomas  Warbeat 
and  Thomas  Power,  the  income  whereof  I  have 
given  to  my  wife  during  her  natural  life.  {See 
Reg.  Probate,  vol.  34,  page  261.) 

Mr.  Hutchinson  owned  the  brick  house  called 
the  Ship  Tavern,  and  from  the  wording  in  the  will 
“  my  brick  house,”  it  would  appear  that  he  owned 
no  other  of  that  description.  Warbeat  and  Power 
also  occupied  the  Ship  Tavern. 

1785,  May  24.  Rev.  Samuel  Mather  makes  his 
26* 


306 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


will,  in  which  he  makes  mention  of  his  wife  Han¬ 
nah,  his  three  daughters,  Elizabeth  Mather,  Sarah 
Shaw,  and  Hannah  Crocker,  his  little  granddaugh¬ 
ter  Hannah  Mather  Crocker,  and  a  son  in  England, 
who  appears  to  be  disfranchised  (probably  in  con¬ 
sequence  of  Revolutionary  troubles).  ( See  Reg. 
Probate,  vol.  84,  page  235.)  This  reference  is 
important  only  in  showing  the  heirs  of  Hannah 
Mather,  who  are  interested  afterward  in  the  brick 
house  in  Ship  Street,  given  them  by  their  grand¬ 
father,  Thomas  Hutchinson. 

1788,  March  22.  Elizabeth  Mather,  single 
woman,  makes  her  will,  in  which  she  bequeaths  to 
her  sister,  Hannah  Crocker,  wife  of  Joseph  Crock¬ 
er,  “All  my  right,  title,  and  interest,  in  all  the 
property,  real  and  personal,  which  I  have  received 
from  my  father,  Rev.  Samuel  Mather,  my  mother, 
Hannah  Mather,  my  aunt  Sarah  Welsteed,  and  my 
cousins  Nathaniel  and  Sarah  Rogers,  all  late  de¬ 
ceased.  ( See  Reg.  Probate,  vol.  87,  page  221.) 

This  will  included  her  share  of  the  brick  house 
in  Ship  Street.  It  is  said  that  the  other  sister, 
Sarah  Shaw,  died  without  issue,  and  her  share  of 
her  grandfather’s  gift,  reverted  to  the  surviving 
heirs  of  her  mother,  Hannah  Mather,  the  son 
being  in  England  and  disfranchised.  By  Eliz¬ 
abeth’s  will,  Hannah  Crocker  became  the  sole 
owner  of  the  estate  called  the  Ship  Tavern. 

1794,  Dec.  9.  Hannah  Crocker  (widow)  con- 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


307 


veys  by  deed  to  Benjamin  James  (brewer),  “  All 
that  dwelling-house  and  land  thereto  belonging, 
situated  in  the  north  part  of  Boston  at  the  corner 
of  Ship  and  Clark  streets,  so  called,  and  bounded 
as  follows :  From  Ship  Street,  thence  running 
west  on  Clark  Street,  eighty-two  feet ;  thence 
southerly  on  land  of  Messrs.  Dolbeare  &  La  vis, 
forty-six  feet  four  inches  ;  thence  easterly  on  land 
of  Mr.  Tate  fifty  feet ;  thence  northerly  by  Tate’s 
land,  two  feet  four  inches  ;  thence  easterly  on  said 
Tate’s  land,  forty-five  feet  six  inches  to  Ship 
Street;  thence  on  Ship  Street  to  the  first-men¬ 
tioned  bound.”  (See  Beg.  Deeds,  vol.  189,  page  2.) 

This  conveyance  includes  more  than  the  original 
Noah’s  Ark  estate  above  the  street.  That  estate 
and  much  more  of  the  adjoining  land,  it  will  be 
recollected,  formerly  belonged  to  Thomas  Hutchin¬ 
son ;  since  his  purchase  of  John  Viall,  in  1713, 
all  the  territory  mentioned  in  this  deed  was 
undoubtedly  included  in  his  bequest  to  his  daugh¬ 
ter  Hannah  and  her  heirs  in  1739. 

From  the  date  of  Benjamin  James’s  purchase  of 
the  Noah’s  Ark  estate  of  Hannah  Crocker,  in  the 
year  1794,  to  the  present  time,  1860,  it  has  been 
in  possession  of  him  and  his  heirs,  being  now  in 
care  of  John  W.  James,  Esq.,  of  this  city,  who  is  a 
son  of  Benjamin,  and  joint  heir  to  the  estate. 

This  estate,  which  is  now  known  as  the  James 
Estate,  was  for  many  years  a  keepsake  in  the 


308 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


family  of  Hannah.  Crocker,  as  a  gift  from  their 
Grandfather  Hutchinson,  and  many  interesting 
incidents  connected  with  the  place  were  communi¬ 
cated  by  her  to  persons  now  living.  The  Old 
House  is  still  standing.  It  was  at  first  but  two 
stories  high,  the  additional  story  having  been  built 
by  Mr.  James.  It  was  built  of  the  large  English 
brick,  with  shell  and  clay  mortar,  and  the  bricks 
were  laid  in  the  old  English  Bond  style,  the  first 
style  of  laying  brick  walls  in  New  England.  The 
house  had  Lutheran  attic  windows,  deep  project¬ 
ing  eaving,  low-arched  wall  windows  with  sliding 
sash,  triangular  flooring  timbers,  and  finished  in 

the  heavy  style  of  the  times  when  it  was  built, 

* 

although  the  interior  has  undergone  repeated 
alterations,  yet  the  walls  probably  preserve  nearly 
their  original  appearance. 

The  original  building  was  thirty- two  feet  front, 
“  on  the  way  of  a  rod  in  breadth,”  now  North 
Street,  and  twenty-eight  feet  wide  on  Clark  Street; 
but  in  widening  North  Street  in  1855,  a  part  of 
the  first  wall  was  removed.  Before  widening  the 
street  a  large  crack  was  to  be  seen  in  the  front 
wall,  which  —  tradition  handed  down  from  John 
Viall  through  Hannah  Crocker,  says  —  was  caused 
by  an“  earthquake  in  1663,  which  made  all  New 
England  tremble.”  Mr.  Viall  occupied  the  house, 
and  history  records  the  event  of  the  earthquake 
that  year.  Mrs.  Crocker  used  to  say,  that  her 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


309 


grandfather  Hutchinson  spoke  of  a  casket  of 
papers,  that  was  said  to  be  placed  under  the 
corner-stone  of  this  house  when  built.  If  so,  they 
would  no  doubt  be  extremely  interesting  at  this 
day ;  but  I  never  could  learn  that  any  such  papers 
were  ever  found. 

Mr.  Samuel  Yendell  and  Mr.  John  Childs, 
highly-respectable  citizens,  and  in  1865  residents 
of  the  North  End,  the  former  ninety-one  and  the 
latter  about  eightyyears  of  age,  said  that  Noah’s 
ark  was  among  their  earliest  recollections.  Mr. 
Yendell  remembered  this  house  eighty-five  years 
distinctly,  and  said  it  was  the  same,  and  looked 
as  old  when  he  first  knew  it. 

Although  many  generations  of  men  have  passed 
away,  and  change  has  placed  its  mark  on  all  sur¬ 
rounding  objects  since  Noah’s  Ark  first  rested  on 
Boston  soil,  yet  the  venerable  relic  still  remains  a 
monument  of  olden  time,  and  its  identity  is  beyond 
dispute. 

There  is  something  deeply  interesting  associated 
in  the  memory  of  these  old  houses ;  they  were  the 
homes  of  our  ancestors,  and  that  thought  alone 
makes  them  sacred.  They  are  mouldering  links 
that  connect  us  with  the  past.  Our  fathers,  — 
where  are  they]  Their  memory,  even,  is  fast 
fading  away. 

I  have  been  thus  particular  in  tracing  the 
records  of  this  old  building,  because  there  are 


310 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


several  others,  for  each  of  which  it  is  claimed  that 
it  is  the  oldest  in  the  city.  This  brick  house , 
with  the  peculiar  name  by  which  it  was  so  early 
md  so  long  known,  affords  facilities  for  tracing  its 
identity  enjoyed  by  none  other ;  and  I  think  I  have 
shown  beyond  question  that  Noah’s  Ark  was  built 
in  the  year  1647,  seventeen  years  after  the  settle¬ 
ment  of  Boston. 


A  STAMPEDE. 


In  the  month  of  October,  1855,  rumors  were  in 
circulation  that  in  the  witching  hour  of  night, 
something  was  to  be  seen,  somewhere.  Young  men 
and  middle  aged,  old  men  and  gray,  knownoth- 
ings  and  knowsome things,  were  on  tiptoe.  The 
countenances  of  some  wore  a  broad  grin ;  that  of 
others  indicated  anxiety  and  caution.  Some,  who 
seemed  to  rank  with  the  knowing  ones,  were  ob¬ 
served  with  thumb  to  nose,  the  digits  of  the  same 
hand  performing  certain  ominous  gyrations ;  and 
some  even  were  overheard  to  utter  the  unintelligi¬ 
ble  word  Moakus . 

Geevus ,  who  had  both  an  eye  and  ear  to  busi- 
ness,  and  is  ever  ready  for  the  chances,  in  this 
case  was  not  idle,  and  one  of  them,  a  little  more 
curious  than  the  rest,  was  out  several  nights  pros - 
pecting ,  and  with  a  little  strategy  and  disguise,  he 
had  the  good  fortune  to  see  and  hear  even  more 
than  he  had  anticipated.  In  consequence,  arrange¬ 
ments  were  made  for  a  reconnoissance  in  force  the 
next  Saturday  night. 


312 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


Well,  the  next  Saturday  night  came,  and  with 
it  a  most  powerful  rain-storm,  the  water  pouring 
down  in  torrents,  which,  however,  only  tended  to 
favor  the  design  of  the  expedition. 

About  nine  o’clock  on  the  aforesaid  Saturday 
evening,  just  as  the  church  bells  were  chiming  the 
hour,  a  figure  closely  wrapped  in  a  dark  cloak, 
who  had  for  a  short  time  occupied  a  deep  door¬ 
way,  noiselessly  and  unobserved  mingled  with  a 
crowd  of  some  dozen  young  gentlemen  as  they 
came  round  the  corner  of  Cooper  and  North  Mar¬ 
gin  streets.  The  party  were  from  a  highly-re- 
spectable  public  house  up-town,  and  evidently  on 
an  errand  of  some  interest,  but  seemed  to  care  very 
little  to  attract  particular  notice. 

The  whole  party  hurried  noiselessly  down  North 
Margin  Street  a  few  rods,  when  all  hands  disap¬ 
peared  round  a  corner  down  a  dark  alley,  which 
was  entered  by  a  flight  of  old  wooden  steps. 

Rap,  rap,  rap,  sounded  the  knuckles  of  some 
one  of  the  party  on  a  rickety  old  door,  the  first  on 
the  right.  Up  came  a  window  in  the  second  story, 
and  out  popped  a  woolly  head,  just  discernible 
from  below,  that  seemed  of  itself  to  make  darkness 
visible. 

“  Whose  dar  ?  ”  said  a  gruff,  female  voice. 

“  Moakus ,”  said  one  of  the  party  below. 

“  Yali,  yah,  yah,”  said  the  voice,  “  dot  you  —  dat 
you.  Jus  stop  dar  one  minute  —  1’ze  dar  jus  one 
minute  :  ”  and  down  wrent  the  window  arrain. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


313 


In  a  few  moments  the  portals  of  the  establish¬ 
ment,  which  were  secured  with  a  large  wooden 
wedge,  were  thrown  open,  and  the  whole  party- 
entered.  Inside  the  darkness  was  intense  ;  but 
the  guide  that  opened  the  door  piloted  the  party 
up  the  winding  stairway,  till  all  arrived  safely  in 
the  reception-room  on  the  third  floor. 

“  Dis  way  —  dis  way,  gemmen;  dis  de  ’ception- 
room.  Walk  right  in  —  done  be  ’fraid;  walk 
right  in ;  ”  and  in  they  all  hustled. 

The  room  was  a  large,  square  one,  neither 
ceiled  or  plastered,  with  little  furniture,  lighted 
with  two  old  oil  lamps,  and  looked  about  as  dark 
as  the  proprietor. 

“  Gemmen,  all  in  —  all  in,”  said  the  proprietor, 
“dat’s  right —  dat’s  right;”  and  taking  the  hat 
of  one,  she  began  collecting  the  admission  fee. 
“Only  quarter  dollar,  gemmen  —  jest  quarter 
apiece.  Put  it  right  in  de  hat  —  dat’s  right,  put  it 
right  in  de  hat ;  ”  and  the  gents  shelled  out  their 
quarters  without  hesitation. 

When  this  operation  was  in  progress,  the  figure 
in  the  cloak,  which  had  attracted  no  attention,  slid 
quietly  out  the  door,  down  the  stairway,  and  un¬ 
bolted  the  outside  door  (which  bad  been  carefully 
fastened  after  the  party  entered),  passed  outside 
and  took  a  convenient  position  for  further  obser¬ 
vation. 

As  the  figure  in  the  cloak  passed  out  of  the 
establishment,  two  other  portly  individuals,  who 


314 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


seemed  to  be  in  waiting,  stepped  in  and  passed 
quietly  up  the  stairway  into  the  reception-room, 
without  attracting  notice,  the  company  inside  being 
too  intent  on  witnessing  the  exhibition  to  trouble 
themselves  about  external  circumstances. 

When  the  performance  was  well  in  progress, 
the  countenances  of  the  whole  party  having  been 
well  observed,  a  tremendous  foot-stamp  on  the 
floor  attracted  the  attention  of  all  present,  and 
mantles  falling  from  the  shoulders  of  the  two  indi¬ 
viduals  revealed  the  forms  of  two  stalwart  fellows 
dressed  in  blue  frock  coat  and  bright  buttons, 
standing  in  their  midst,  one  of  whom  proclaimed, 
in  a  plain,  clear  voice,  that  the  performance  of  the 
evening  was  now  closed. 

A  clap  of  thunder  in  a  clear  sky,  or  the  ghost 
of  Hamlet’s  father  in  corduroys,  would  hardly 
have  produced  a  greater  surprise  on  our  little 
party  of  sportsmen.  For  a  moment  silence  reigned 
supreme  ;  and  then  commenced  a  retreat,  a  stam¬ 
pede,  —  and  such  a  stampede  as  is  rarely  wit¬ 
nessed.  Such  a  scratching,  snatching,  scrabbling, 
puffing,  hunching,  punching,  rolling,  jumping, 
tumbling,  66  Such  a  getting  down  stairs,”  and  out 
of  doors  and  windows,  never  entered  into  the 
fruitful  imagination  of  the  author  of  “  Paradise 
Lost.” 

Those  who  were  the  innocent  cause  of  this  tre¬ 
mendous  fright,  stood  looking  calmly  on  until  the 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


315 


last  coat-tail  had  snapped  round  the  corner,  and 
the  sound  of  retreating  footsteps  was  lost  in  the 
distance,  and  then  two  very  sable  individuals  were 
carefully  conveyed  to  the  Lockup. 


GIVING  A  DESCRIPTION. 


One  of  the  greatest  perplexities  encountered  by 
the  Detective  Police  Officer,  arises  in  consequence 
of  the  vague  and  erroneous  description  given  of 
persons  who  it  is  desirable  to  find.  Descriptions 
are  often  given,  that  are  no  more  like  the  persons 
intended,  than  Cleopatra  was  like  an  Orang  Outang, 
or  the  great  American  traveller  is  like  the  celebrated 
Big  Dick. 

Descriptions  are  not  unfrequently  given  by  dif¬ 
ferent  individuals,  of  some  intimate  missing  friend, 
so  different  from  each  other,  as  to  cause  delays  and 
mistakes  enough  to  provoke  the  most  cool  and  self- 
possessed  officer.  In  fact,  it  is  but  too  well  under¬ 
stood  by  every  detective,  that  he  will  hardly  find 
two  persons  that  will  describe  the  figure  of  a 
stranger  alike,  although  seen  at  the  same  time, 
and  under  the  same  circumstances. 

My  own  observation  leads  me  to  believe  that  but 
comparatively  few  persons  can  give  a  good  general 
description  of  others,  unless  led  to  make  observa¬ 
tions  for  that  purpose  by  occupation  or  profession ; 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


317 


and  then,  when  an  officer  once  gets  a  good  de- 
scription,  tlie  difficulty  of  picking  up  your  man 
among  the  tens  of  thousands  of  persons  that  throng 
the  streets  is  no  easy  matter,  even  if  you  have  the 
good  fortune  to  get  in  sight  of  the  right  one. 

I  lecollect  one  time  of  being  sent  out  by  my  su¬ 
perior  officer,  to  hunt  up  a  pickpocket ;  a  general 
description  was  given  of  him,  which  would  answer 
foi  half  the  men  in  the  streets,  but  the  mark  that 
was  to  fix  the  fellow,  was  a  round  top  gray  cap,  a 
very  uncommon  article,  it  was  said. 

I  started  out,  with  all  the  confidence  I  could 
summons,  to  find  that  gray  cap ,  with  the  rogue 
under  it;  but  before  I  had  proceeded  half  the 
length  of  Hanover  Street,  I  was  completely  dis- 
couiaged,  and  I  soon  returned  to  the  Office,  ready 
to  swear  on  a  stack  of  Bibles,  that,  of  all  the  men  I 
met,  one  in  every  ten  wore  that  same  style  of  cap. 

But  to  the  Descriptions.  I  recollect  a  case  which, 
although  literally  true,  may  yet  be  thought  a  rather 
tall  illustration  of  my  subject.  One  day  in  the 
summer  of  1862,  there  came  a  tall,  careworn-look¬ 
ing  lady  into  the  Office  where  I  was  in  charge, 
and  proceeding  cautiously  up  to  my  desk,  asked  in 
a  loud  whisper  if  I  was  the  man.  I  quietly  nodded 
assent,  and  she  took  a  seat  at  my  elbow ;  and  after 
carefully  adjusting  the  folds  of  her  dress  and  bon¬ 
net  strings,  she  remarked  that  she  had  called  on 
very  important  business,  and  desired  the  strictest 

27*  ' 


318 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


secrecy.  After  being  assured  that  her  confidence 
would  not  be  betrayed,  she  proceeded. 

“  Well,  sir,”  said  she,  “  I  have  lost  my  son ;  ” 
and  she  covered  her  face  with  a  clean  white  hand¬ 
kerchief. 

“  Indeed,  madam,”  said  I,  at  once  touched  by 
the  apparent  depth  of  her  grief.  “  Pray,  madam, 
what  were  the  circumstances  attending  his  death V’’ 

“  Dead  !  ”  said  she,  springing  to  her  feet,  “  you 
don’t  tell  me  he  is  dead.” 

-  “  Oh  no,  no,  madam,”  said  I,  “  but  I  understood 
you  to  say  you  had  lost  a  son.” 

“  Well,  so  I  have,”  said  she,  resuming  her  seat ; 
“  but  he  amt  dead;  I  should  feel  better,  though,  to 
follow  him  to  his  grave,  than  to  have  him  run 
away,  as  he  has,  and  leave  his  poor  heart-broken 
mother.  Oh  dear,  dear  !  for  one  so  young  and  so 
tender  to  be  sacrificed  so  soon  !  ” 

“  Well,  madam,”  said  I,  “  what  can  I  do  for 
you  l  ” 

“  Oh,  sir,  you  can  take  his  description,  and  hunt 
him  up  for  me.  They  told  me  if  I  left  his  descrip¬ 
tion,  you  would  surely  get  him  for  me.  He  is 
surely  in  some  recruiting  office.” 

“  Well,  madam,  give  me  the  description,”  said 
I,  “  and  we  will  try.  What  is  his  name  ?  ” 

“  Timothy  Browning,”  said  she.  “  But  he  en¬ 
listed  by  another  name.” 

“  How  old  ?  ” 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


319 


44  Fourteen.” 

4 4  How  tall  1  ” 

“  Eight  feet  five  inches”  said  she. 

44  Eight  feet  five,”  said  I.  46  Do  n’t  you  mean 
five  feet  eight  inches,  and  that  would  be  extremely 
tall  of  his  age.” 

44  Do  you  think  I  don’t  know  my  own  son  better 
than  a  stranger  ?  ”  said  she,  apparently  a  little 
vexed. 

44  Certainly,  certainly,  madam,”  said  I.  44  Well, 
fourteen  years  old,  eight  feet  five  inches  high. 
What  complexion  ?  ” 

44  Light  hair  and  black  eyes. 

44 Rather  uncommon,”  said  I.  Well,  is  he  slim?” 

44  No,  he  is  thick-set  and  full  face,  and  he  wears 
a  No.  9  Boot ,  a  cap,  and  gray  coat  and  pants,” 
said  she.  44  But  he  is  not  dressed  so  now,  for  he 
was  seen  coming  out  of  the  Recruiting  Office  yes¬ 
terday  with  some  other  boys  about  his  size ,  and 
dressed  in  military  uniform.” 

44  Any  other  peculiarity  ?  ”  said  I. 

44  That ’s  all,”  replied  the  lady. 

•4  Well,  let  us  see  if  I  have  it  correct,”  I  said. 

44  Missing - Timothy  Browning,  (has  taken 

some  other  name,)  age  fourteen,  eight  feet  five 
inches  high,  thick-set,  full  face  ;  was  seen  coming 
out  of  a  recruiting  office  yesterday  in  military 
uniform,  with  several  other  boys  about  his  size ; 
wore  a  No.  9  Boot.” 


320 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


“  That ’s  correct,”  said  the  lady.  Any  one  would 
know  him  by  that  description.”  I  thought  so  too, 
and  I  promised  her  my  best  efforts ;  but  I  never 
found  him. 


TOUGH  CUSTOMERS. 


During  my  police  life  I  have  had  many  thou¬ 
sands  of  persons  in  my  custody,  the  books  at  Sta¬ 
tion  No.  One  alone  showing  a  record  of  some  sixty 
thousand  names,  during  the  seven  years  I  had 
charge  there  ;  and  it  may  readily  be  supposed  that 
among  so  large  a  number,  we  found  some  very 
tough  customers .  Tough  they  were,  many  of  them, 
and  I  know  no  reason  why  they  might  not  be 
called  customers ,  for  they  have  done  a  good  deal  of 
business  in  our  line,  —  called  often  at  our  place  of 
business,  and  we  furnished  them  with  a  good  deal 
of  what  they  very  much  deserved.  Among  the 
many  I  will  name  a  few. 

One  day  an  officer  found  a  man  lying  insensible 
in  Haverhill  Street,  procured  a  carriage  and 
brought  him  to  the  Station  House,  apparently  in  a 
dying  condition.  A  physician  was  immediately 
sent  for,  who  at  once  commenced  applying  restor¬ 
atives.  First,  he  let  a  stream  of  cold  water  fall 
some  distance  upon  his  temples  ;  no  movement 
was  produced.  Next,  he  applied  a  sponge  sat- 


322 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


urated  with  hartshorn  to  his  nostrils ;  not  a  muscle 
was  seen  to  stir.  The  doctor  looked  puzzled,  but 
after  carefully  feeling  his  pulse,  he  said  there  was 
life,  and  he  would  try  the  lancet.  Accordingly  he 
drew  forth  a  sharp-pointed  instrument,  and  open¬ 
ing  a  vein,  the  red  fluid  flowed  quite  freely. 

At  this  stage  of  the  proceedings  the  dying  man 
sprang  to  his  feet,  and  swore  with  a  terrible  oath 
that  he  would  stand  this  nonsense  no  longer,  and 
he  pitched  into  the  kind-hearted  doctor  right  and 
left. 

He  said,  he  didn’t  care  a  fig  for  the  water,  or 
the  smelling-drops ;  but  when  they  came  to  butch- 
„  er  a  fellow  in  the  cellar  of  a  watch-house,  it  wTas 
more  than  he  could  stand,  and  he  believed  the 
rascals  would  soon  had  the  knife  in  his  throat, 
and  he  would  have  been  a  dead  carcase  in  the 
medical  college. 

The  fellow  was  hurried  into  a  cell  for  the  safety 
of  the  doctor.  After  being  there  a  few  moments, 
he  very  calmly  requested  to  be  let  out,  that  he 
might  give  the  doctor  what  he  deserved ;  and,  said 
he,  66  If  I  am  not  let  out  immediately,  I  ’ll  be  shot 
if  I  come  out  till  I  get  ready.” 

He  came  very  near  being  as  good  as  his  word, 
for  we  did  not  get  rid  of  him  for  two  days,  in 
which  time  he  neither  ate  nor  drank,  and  then  he 
was  only  taken  off  by  force,  on  virtue  of  a  warrant 
charging  him  with  being  a  vagabond. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


323 


Dick  O  Drien  was  not  one  of  the  very  worst  of 
roughs,  if  you  could  catch  him  sober.  Some  one 
'  has  said,  “  when  wine  is  in,  wit  is  out.”  If  he  had 
said,  when  Medford  rum  is  in,  Dick  is  a  quarrel¬ 
some  blackguard,”  it  would  apply  better  to  his  case. 

Dick  had  taken  lessons  in  the  manly  art ,  and  by 
some  means  had  acquired  the  title  of  “  The  Irish 
Pet,”  of  which  name  he  was  very  proud,  and  allu¬ 
sions  to  it  in  a  tone  of  disrespect  has  caused  more 
than  one  row  in  North  Street.  Sometimes,  too 
when  Dick  had  indulged  pretty  freely  in  his  favor¬ 
ite  be\ei age,  without  any  provocation,  he  was  in¬ 
clined  to  indulge  in  his  favorite  sport,  to  the  great 
annoyance  of  all  peaceably  disposed  persons. 

One  evening  in  September,  1855,  the  Pet  had 
been  tasting  rather  heavily,  and  getting  a  little 
out  of  sorts  because  he  could  not  get  more  without 
money,  he  posted  himself  at  the  corner  of  Rich¬ 
mond  and  North  streets,  evidently  intent  on  mis¬ 
chief;  and  by  way  of  opening  the  hall ,  he  at  first 
selected  a  young  darkey  who  came  up  street,  and 
gave  him  a  tremendous  punch  in  the  head.  The 
blow  was  a  severe  one,  but  the  darkey  seemed  to 
think  it  all  a  joke,  and  went  off  grinning,  while 
Dick  stood  rubbing  his  knuckles  with  pain. 

Dick  s  next  attempt  was  on  a  country  looking 
chap,  who  came  round  the  corner,  who,  when  he 
saw  Dick  s  well-aimed  blow  nearing  his  knowledge- 
box,  just  threw  up  his  arm,  and  Dick’s  fist  passed 


324 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


harmlessly  by ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  laid  his 
open  hand  on  Dick’s  cheek  with  such  force,  that 
his  heels  were  noticed  high  in  the  air. 

When  Dick  regained  his  feet,  the  countryman 
was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  and  Dick  went  back  to 
his  corner  swearing  vengeance  against  all  mankind 
in  general,  and  any  that  might  approach  him  in 
particular.  In  a  few  moments  after  Dick  had 
again  taken  his  position,  peaceable  and  unsuspect¬ 
ing  John  Bigney  came  along,  and  caught  a  terrible 
blow  from  Dick’s  fist,  which  laid  him  senseless  in 
the  street  with  a  broken  shoulder,  and  a  stranger 
who  hastened  up  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  got 
a  sidewinder,  which  only  left  life  enough  in  him  to 
cry  watch ,  and  the  cry  being  repeated  by  several 
others  in  the  neighborhood,  soon  brought  up  two 
of  the  guardians . 

Dick  was  too  proud  to  run,  and  too  well-garri¬ 
soned  to  be  taken  without  a  siege  ;  but  he  was 
eventually  obliged  to  surrender  in  disgrace,  and 
carried  into  the  enemy’s  camp  minus  every  rag  of 
regimentals. 

Next  day  Dick  was  sent  to  the  House  of  Correc¬ 
tion  one  year,  for  a  felonious  assault. 


One  evening  a  little  old  colored  woman  came 
into  the  Station  House,  and  very  politely  asked  for 
a  night’s  lodging.  On  being  questioned  in  relation 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


325 


to  her  name,  age,  and  residence,  she  said  she  was 
a  citizen  of  the  world,  was  nine  hundred  and 
eighty  years  old,  and  her  name  was  Kill  Time. 

She  was  evidently  old  and  tough,  but  very 
smart  and  lively,  and  was  neither  drunk  nor  crazy; 
so  she  was  taken  at  her  word,  and  the  record  made 
-on  the  books.  After  being  furnished  with  some 
biead  and  cheese,  she  took  her  lodging-room  in  the 
basement,  for  which  she  expressed  her  thanks,  and 
seemed  to  enjoy  herself  remarkably  well. 

When  she  turned  out  next  morning,  she  was  as 
bright  and  as  chipper  as  a  school  girl,  and  when 
about  leaving  the  house  was  again  asked  her  age. 

“  Nine  hundred  and  eighty,”  said  she. 

“  And  what  is  your  right  name  ?  ”  said  one  of 
the  officers. 

“  -8®  Time"  sir,  was  the  reply ;  and  she  de¬ 
parted  with  a  low  courtesy. 


Early  one  morning  in  the  month  of  December, 
1S55,  one  of  the  officers  heard  the  cry  of watch  ” 
apparently  in  a  stifled  voice,  emanating  from  a 
yard  in  rear  of  a  lodging-house  on  Union  Street, 
and  hastened  in  that  direction.  On  reaching  the 
spot,  the  officer  found  the  cry  came  from  the  lungs 
of  one  J ohn  Diver,  a  big  lump  of  a  drunken  loafer, 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


who  had  come  over  from  Cambridge  the  night  pre¬ 
vious,  and  whose  head  held  more  rum  than  brains. 

John  had  taken  lodging  in  the  house  at  a  late 
hour,  and  after  retiring,  “  the  spirits  ”  or  some 
other  power,  suggested  to  him  that  he  was  in  a 
very  bad  locality,  and  dangerous  withal ;  and,  to 
add  a  peculiar  interest  to  the  case,  John  imagined 
he  saw  myriads  of  hideous  monsters,  who,  with 
enormous  horns,  protruding  eyeballs,  and  extended 
jaws,  were  about  to  put  an  end  to  his  corporeal 
identity,  uncooked  and  unseasoned . 

John  at  once  resolved  not  to  surrender  without 
an  effort,  and  following  up  his  resolution,  he  per¬ 
formed  some  feats  that  highly  illustrated  his  name, 
and  which  would  have  done  honor  to  the  veritable 
Sam  Patch  himself,  although  Sam,  very  unlike 
John,  always  kept  right  end  up. 

At  first,  John  dove  out  of  bed,  —  then,  down  two 
flight  of  stairs,  —  then,  through  a  glass  window  in 
the  upper  part  of  a  door  into  the  street,  —  next, 
through  the  panel  of  a  gate  into  the  back  yard, 
every  jump  head  foremost ;  and,  last  of  all,  he 
jumped  his  head  into  a  swill  barrel,  where  the 
officer  found  him  kicking  and  struggling  with  all 
his  might  to  make  further  headway. 

Why  John  had  not  beat  out  what  brains  he  had 
left  is  more  than  can  be  well  accounted  for,  yet  he 
was  not  materially  injured.  When  rescued  by  the 
officer,  he  entertained  the  idea  that  he  had  barely 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


327 


managed  to  escape  from  Purgatory,  and  walked 

oft  to  the  Station  House  with  his  new  guide  with 
a  very  good  grace. 


.  °NE  evemn"  a  neighboring  shopman  came  rush- 

mg  into  the  Station  House  in  breathless  haste, 

demanding  the  immediate  assistance  of  an  officer 

saymg  that  a  terrible  customer  had  just  entered  his 

store  with  a  loaded  pistol  in  hand,  and  threatened 

to  shoot  every  one  within  his  reach.  Lo, 

“  myself  and  clerk  have  barely  escaped  with  our 
lives.” 

An  officer  was  on  the  way  at  once,  and  soon  re¬ 
turned  with  the  would-be  assassin  in  custody 
closely  followed  by  the  affrighted  shopman  and 
several  neighbors. 

The  desperado  was  a  little  drunk,  but  not  turbu¬ 
lent,  and  submitted  to  be  searched  without  a 
murmur.  After  carefully  examining  his  pockets, 
the  officer  drew  from  the  one  under  the  left  arm, 
the  supposed  deadly  weapon.  As  it  came  in  sight 
a  shudder  seemed  to  run  through  the  crowd  of  by¬ 
standers,  and  the  shopman  exclaimed,  “  That ’s  it  • 
look  out,  it ’s  loaded !  ” 

On  examination,  however,  the  weapon  proved  to 
be  but  a  sweet  potato,  about  the  size  and  some¬ 
thing  in  the  form  of  a  small  pocket-pistol,  but  cer¬ 
tainly  possessing  none  of  its  deadly  qualities.  The 


328 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


rascal  of  a  prisoner  stood  grinning  as  we  examined 
the  weapon,  and  when  I  turned  to  speak  to  the 
shopman,  he  had  gone,  and  his  friends  were  retir¬ 
ing  one  by  one. 


I  have  in  my  mind  a  pair,  one  of  each  sex,  who 
dwelt  together  for  some  years,  who  would  not 
suffer  in  comparison  with  the  toughest  set  I  ever 
sa^/  .socially  the  female  specimen,  for  she  was 
the  tougher  of  the  two. 

It  was  shortly  after  the  great  Police  Descent  in 
Ann  Street,  and  a  large  number  of  the  same  class 
had  fled  from  the  wrath  in  that  street,  and  taken  up 
quarters  at  North  End  block.  There  were  at  this 
time  some  fifty  rooms  in  this  block,  occupied  by  as 
many  different  families,  if  you  could  call  them 
such,  and  they  were  made  up  of  the  very  toughest 
class  of  human  beings  I  ever  met.  Add  to  this  the 
numerous  roughs  visiting  every  night  from  other 
localities,  and  the  crews  of  two  men-of- war’s  men, 
whose  vessels  lay  in  the  harbor,  and  who  were  not 
slow  in  prospecting  about  this  locality,  and  it  made 
up  one  of  the  most  interesting  little  colonies  ever 
known  in  the  puritan  city  of  Boston. 

Well,  Shoddy,  as  he  was  called,  and  Mary  Lovi- 
na,  were  perfectly  at  home  here,  especially  as  far 
as  rum  and  fight  was  in  the  play  ;  and  it  was  said 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


329 


that  when  outsiders  were  a  little  scarce,  Shoddy 
and  Lovina  would  occasionally  get  up  a  brush  be¬ 
tween  themselves,  just  to  keep  the  hand  in. 

In  these  family  exercises,  the  drunker  of  the 
two  generally  got  the  worst  of  it,  although  they 
contrived  to  keep  the  account  along  about  even. 
In  fact,  the  pair  were  so  troublesome,  that,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  they  really  annoyed  the  neighbor¬ 
hood,  bad  as  it  was,  and  it  became  necessary  to 
make  an  example  of  both  Shoddy  and  his  wife. 

One  night  two  of  us  went  down  with  Constable 

Stratton,  who  was  armed  with  a  warrant  to  make 

the  arrest.  We  went  to  Shoddy’s  room  and  made 

known  our  errand,  and  both  he  and  the  wife  being 

somewhat  accustomed  to  similar  visits,  took  it  all 

as  a  matter  of  course,  and  although  both  were 

pretty  drunk,  they- immediately  began  to  prepare. 

Mary  Lovina,  during  her  preparation,  stepped  into 

a  small  side-room.  While  thus  engaged,  all  at 

once  Shoddy  cried  out,  “  She ’s  gone,”  his  eyes 

sticking  out  most  wonderfully  as  he  gazed  at  an 

open  window  that  led  from  the  side-room  down 

into  the  street.  I  looked  just  in  time  to  see  Mary 

Lovina’s  hands  slip  from ,  the  window-sill.  I 

sprang  to  the  window,  but  she  had  gone,  sure 

enough,  out  of  the  window  down  to  the  sidewalk, 

a  distance  of  twenty-two  feet,  having  fallen  partly 

into  an  open  cellar- way,  her  body  lying  across  the 

sharp  edge  of  the  cap  timber,  partly  on  the  side- 

28* 


330 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


walk  and  partly  down  the  stairway,  and  appar¬ 
ently  a  lifeless  corpse. 

We  hurried  doAvn  as  quickly  as  possible,  took  her 
up  and  carried  her  into  the  house  for  dead ;  but 
on  feeling  her  pulse  it  was  found  she  still  had  life. 
A  physician  was  sent  for,  and  after  a  while  she 
began  to  revive,  and,  strange  to  say,  not  a  bone 
had  been  broken.  She  finally  so  far  recovered, 
that,  at  the  physician’s  suggestion,  she  was  con¬ 
veyed  to  the  hospital  at  South  Boston,  although  it 
was  supposed  that  she  had  received  internal  inju¬ 
ries,  indicated  by  volumes  of  blood  from  the  mouth, 
and  could  not  live.  But  Lovina  did  live,  and  in 
about  ten  days  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  brought 
over  to  the  Police  Court,  and  sentenced  to  the 
House  of  Correction  six  months  for  common 
drunkenness. 

Lovina  was  placed  under  the  kind  care  of  Cap¬ 
tain  Bobbins,  and  took  her  post  among  his  pupils ; 
but  before  ten  days  had  elapsed  she  had  eluded 
the  eye  of  her  overseer,  crawled  over  a  board  fence 
ten  feet  high,  and  made  her  escape,  —  after  which 
I  heard  no  more  of  Shoddy  or  Mary  Lovina  for 
some  years. 

However,  in  the  year  1858,  some  six  years  after, 
the  pair  turned  up  again  in  an  alley- way  leading 
out  of  Friend  Street,  as  purely  Shoddy  and  Mary 
Lovina  as  ever,  and  at  their  old  tricks,  —  getting 
drunk  and  pummelling  each  other  as  in  former 
days. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


331 


But  poor  human  nature  cannot  always  bear  up 
against  the  storms  of  adversity,  and  Lovina,  getting 
a  little  tired  of  life,  one  day  went  down  to  the 
Boston  and  Maine  railroad  wharf  and  jumped  over¬ 
board.  She  was  so  ugly  she  could  not  sink,  but 
floated  off  upon  the  water  as  buoyant  as  an  old 
bonnet.  She  was  picked  up  by  a  boatman  and  set 
ashore,  swearing  vengeance  upon  the  poor  boat¬ 
man  and  her  ill  luck,  and  steaming  up  the  wharf 
in  a  paroxysm  of  rage.  I  have  never  seen  her 
since,  but,  in  her  prime,  I  think  she  stood  at  the 
head  of  her  class. 


J ohn  Brown,  unlike  him  of  song ,  was  a  character 
of  very  little  note,  were  it  not  for  his  big  burly 
head  and  ill  temper.  John  was  a  rough,  however, 
of  considerable  muscular  power,  and  was  always 
to  be  found  at  a  cock  or  dog  fight,  or  a  bar-room 
brawl,  and  he  not  only  dealt  out  many  hard 
knocks,  but  now  and  then  he  managed  to  get  one 
himself. 

One  evening  J  ohn  kicked  up  a  row  in  the  pit  at 
the  National  Theatre,  and  got  put  out.  He  imme¬ 
diately  made  his  way  up  to  the  third  circle,  and 
demanded  admittance  there.  Just  at  that  time  I 
was  passing  the  theatre,  add  thought  I  would  step 
up  and  see  if  there  were  any  new  faces  among  the 
profession ,  as  there  were  usually  a  good  delegation 


332 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


of  that  class  to  be  found  in  the  third  circle.  As  I 
came  up  the  stairs  to  the  door,  John  was  making 
preparation  to  pitch  into  the  doorkeeper  for  refus¬ 
ing  to  admit  him  without  a  ticket,  and  seeing  there 
was  likely  to  be  trouble  if  John  remained,  I  turned 
my  back  to  him  (he  had  not  noticed  me),  and 
taking  a  good  hold  with  each  hand  on  the  bottom 
of  each  leg  of  his  pantaloons  I  started  down  stairs. 
From  indications  behind  me,  I  came  to  the  conclu¬ 
sion  that  John’s  underpinning  had  given  way,  and 
that  he  was  playing  the  part  of  a  boy  coasting  belly 
bump ,  only  he  was  “  advancing  backwards  ”  at  a  tre¬ 
mendous  speed ;  however,  I  kept  steadily  on,  with¬ 
out  once  relinquishing  my  hold  of  the  pants,  down 
one  flight  of  stairs,  and  then  another,  till  I  fairly 
reached  the  sidewalk,  when  I  suddenly  released 
my  hold,  sprang  across  the  street  to  the  opposite 
sidewalk,  and  turned  round  to  see  the  result,  leaving 
John  sprawling,  face  downward,  looking  very  much 
like  a  frog  on  dry  land  in  hot  sunshine.  The 
officer  in  the  lower  part  of  the  theatre,  who  had 
put  John  out  of  the  pit,  hearing  the  racket,  ran 
out  upon  the  sidewalk  to  see  what  was  the  matter, 
.  and  reached  the  spot  where  John  had  lain  just  as 
he  had  regained  his  feet.  John,  supposing  poor 
Geevus  (who  was  the  first  man  he  saw)  to  be  the 
cause  of  all  his  trouble,  pitched  into  him  and  made 
the  claret  fly  at  short  notice.  Geevus ,  who  was 
not  a  cripple,  returned  the  compliment  in  fine 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


333 


style,  and  with  the  butt  end  of  a  heavy  cane  he 
floored  poor  John  instanter,  and  with  help  ready  at 
hand  lugged  him  off  to  the  Station  House.  I  fol¬ 
lowed  on  to  see  how  matters  progressed,  but 
nothing  further  interesting  coming  up,  I  quietly 
went  my  way,  and  next  day  I  saw  in  the  papers 
that  J ohn  was  sent  to  the  House  of  Correction  six 
months  for  an  assault  on  an  officer  in  the  discharge 
of  his  duty. 


THE  OLD  ELM  ON  THE  COMMON. 


This  venerable  representative  of  olden  time, 
which  has  lived  to  witness  the  rise  and  fall  of 
empires ;  the  birth,  progress,  and  decay  of  nations  ; 
which  has  withstood  the  fury  of  the  storm  and  the 
ravages  of  time  for  many  generations  4  4  still  lives'1 
Its  widely  extended  roots  still  grapple  with  mother 
earth,  in  all  the  tenacity  and  vigor  of  manhood. 
Its  massive  trunk,  supported  by  iron  strengthening- 
bands,  still  stands  firm  and  erect,  and  its  numerous 
branches,  with  here  and  there  the  stump  of  an 
amputated  arm,  are  still  stretched  forth  toward 
heaven,  as  if  in  supplication  to  the  Father  of  Life, 
and  in  veneration  of  the  handiwork  of  the  great 
Creator. 

Although  the  old  tree  bears  unmistakable  marks 
of  great  age,  yet  the  exact  date  of  its  origin  is  now 
unknown.  In  the  year  1854,  Dr.  Smith,  then 
Mayor  of  Boston,  caused  a  fence  to  be  erected, 
enclosing  and  protecting  the  Old  Elm . 

This  fence  is  of  octagon  form,  made  of  cast  iron, 
and  is  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  in  circumfer- 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


oox 

wO 


ence,  although  it  falls  far  short  of  enclosing  the 
area  shadowed  by  the  branches  of  the  tree.  On 
the  iron  gate  at  the  entrance  of  the  enclosure,  is  a 
tablet  containing  a  short  history  of  the  tree,  in 
raised  letters,  as  follows  :  — 

THE  OLD  ELM. 

This  Tree  has  been  standing^ 

HERE  FOR  AN  UNKNOWN  PERIOD.  It  is' 

BELIEVED  TO  HAVE  EXISTED  BEFORE  THE  , 

SETTLEMENT  OF  BOSTON,  BEING  FULLY 
GROWN  IN  1722,  EXHIBITED  MARKS  OF  OLD 
AGE  IN  1792,  AND  WAS  NEARLY  DESTROYED 
BY  A  STORM  IN  1832.  PROTECTED  BY  AN 
IRON  ENCLOSURE  IN  1854. 

J.  V.  C.  SMITH,  Mayor. 

Although  the  foregoing  account  of  the  supposed 
age  of  the  tree  is  entitled  to  great  credit,  yet  the- 
Hancock  family,  who  have  always  had  a  deep  in¬ 
terest  in  its  history,  have  a  tradition  that  differs 
somewhat  from  that  upon  the  iron  tablet. 

I  have  seen  an  affadavit  of  Madame  Scott,  for¬ 
merly  the  widow  of  Governor  Hancock,  which 
says : — 

“  Mrs.  Hancock,  the  wife  of  Thomas,  who  was 
uncle  to  the  Governor,  has  often  told  me  that  her 
grandfather,  Hezekiah  Henchman,  when  a  boy, 
transplanted  the  great  elm  from  the  North  End  to 
where  it  now  stands.  Mrs.  Hancock  has  often 
pointed  at  the  old  tree,  and  spoken  of  the  circum¬ 
stance,  and  it  was  a  matter  of  notoriety  in  our 
family.” 

Mrs.  Hancock  used  to  say  that  she  could  re¬ 
member  when  the  tree  was  not  fully  grown. 


336 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


Madam  Scott  was  said  to  be  a  highly  educated 
and  accomplished  lady,  and  was  living  in  about  the 
year  1818,  being  then  nearly  eighty  years  of  age. 

Mr.  Thomas  Hancock,  uncle  of  the  Governor, 
was  a  bookbinder  and  bookseller,  served  his  time 
with  Colonel  Daniel  Henchman,  and  married  his 
daughter  Lydia.  Mr.  Hancock  lived  in  Queen 
Street,  in  the  house  afterwards  occupied  as  the 
Brattle  Street  Church  Parsonage,  which  was  given 
that  Society  by  his  widow.  Mr.  Thomas  Hancock 
was  the  patron  of  the  Governor,  who  inherited  a 
large  portion  of  his  estate. 

Colonel  Daniel  Henchman,  the  father  of  Mrs. 
Thomas  Hancock,  established  the  first  paper-mill 
in  New  England,  at  Quincy,  Mass.  He  was  the. 
son  of  Hezekiah  Henchman,  the  boy  who  is  said 
to  have  transplanted  the  tree. 

Hezekiah  was  the  son  of  Captain  Daniel  Hench¬ 
man,  the  emigrant,  and  was  probably  born  about 
the  year  1658.  The  family  removed  to  Worcester 
in  the  year  1674,  and,  if  the  tradition  is  correct, 
young  Hezekiah  probably  transplanted  the  elm 
previously  to  the  removal  to  Worcester.  Which 
account  of  the  origin  of  the  Old  Elm  is  correct,  or 
either,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  determine. 

The  old  tree  is  said  to  be  a  native  elm,  whose 
roots  extend  much  further  and  deeper,  and  lives 
much  longer,  than  the  English  elm,  many  of  which 
have  been  blown  down  or  decayed  while  standing 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


337 


on  the  adjoining  malls,  while  the  native  of  the  soil 
remains  unharmed  and  thrifty. 

The  combination  of  incidents  and  memories,  in 
ten  thousand  ways  associated  in  the  history  of  the 
venerable  old  tree  for  the  past  two  hundred  years, 
would  fill  a  volume  of  the  deepest  interest. 


1 


IMPERTINENT  POLICEMEN. 


Policemen  are  often  funny  fellows,  and  not  only 
so,  but  they  sometimes  have  the  faculty  of  asking 
some  very  impertinent  questions  ;  nor  is  this  fault 
confined  to  patrolmen  alone,  but  is  sometimes  in¬ 
dulged  in  by  officers  of  higher  rank.  Instances  of 
this  character  from  any  source  were  always  annoy¬ 
ing  to  me,  especially  where  the  subject  relates  to 
matters  of  a  grave  nature,  or  are  designed  to  call 
in  question  the  official  integrity  of  the  officer  of 
any  other  department,  as  I  think  the  interest  of 
the  public  is  best  subserved  by  each  department 
confining  itself  to  its  own  legitimate  duties. 

However,  we  should  not  look  for  perfection 
among  men ;  but  I  am  willing  to  confess,  I  should 
commence  in  the  Police  Department  to  take  the 
first  look. 

One  bright  winter  afternoon,  when  for  once  the 
sleighing  was  fine  in  Boston,  one  of  the  Captains 
of  Police  had  the  impudence  to  send  me  the  fol¬ 
lowing  communication. 

D 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


339 


Mr. - 

Dear  Sir  :  Having  a  leisure  hour,  I  have  taken 
the  liberty  to  send  you  an  account  of  my  doings  in  one  of 
the  courts  this  forenoon,  and  in  return  desire  you  to  send 
me  your  opinion  of  my  success. 

I  had  four  cases  in  court,  of  a  nature  and  result  as 
follows,  viz :  No.  1.  A  thief  stole  four  pair  of  boots, 
valued  at  sixteen  dollars.  Plead  guilty  to  the  charge, 
fined  eight  dollars  without  costs.  No.  2.  A  young  boy, 
but  an  old  thief,  stole  five  dollars  from  a  money-drawer. 
Caught  in  the  act.  Boy  said  he  was  coasting  on  the  Com¬ 
mon  at  the  time,  —  pretty  sister  swore  he  was  in  the 
house  all  day.  Conflicting  testimony, — boy  discharged. 
No.  3.  Till-tappers  accomplice, — no  warrant.  No.  4. 
Brutal  fight,  —  broken  heads,  —  mutual  assault,  and  mu¬ 
tual  damage.  One  fined  six  dollars  and  costs,  the  other 
discharged. 

In  my  perplexity  and  chagrin  at  the  Captain’s 
impudence  I  returned  him  the  following  answer. 

“  Dear  Captain,  in  your  note  this  day, 

A  leisure  hour  to  while  away,  — 

You  gave  a  sample  of  your  readings 
In  our  Court  of  special  pleadings; 

Where,  in  his  glory  and  alone, 

Sat  Justice,  smiling  on  the  throne. 

\ 

4  ‘In  No.  1,  for  stealing  leather, 

Admit  without  proceeding  further, 

*  1  did  it,y  pays  one  half  the  debt, 

The  balance  cash,  eight  dollars  net. 


340 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


“  Then  No.  2,  ‘the  noted  thief/ 

What  if  he  steals  cash,  bread,  or  beef^ ; 

Pray,  has  he  not  good  claims  on  grace, 

With  a  pretty  sister  in  the  case? 

“Now  tell  me  plainly,  as  your  friend, 

What  right  have  you  down  at  North  End , 

To  pick  up  strangers,  just  for  sport, 

To  worry  and  perplex  the  court; 

Should  you  not  strive  its  cares  to  lighten, 
Wlien  sleighing ’s  tip  top  out  to  Brighton  ? 
Despise  not  honors,  fame,  or  pelf, 

For  you  may  yet  be  Judge  yourself.” 

\ 

The  Captain  sent  me  no  more  communications 
of  a  like  nature. 


ADVICE  TO  A  YOUNG  POLICEMAN. 


My  Friend  :  You  have  recently  been  appoint¬ 
ed,  and  are  about  to  assume  the  responsibilities, 
of  an  office  the  duties  of  which  are  much  more 
varied  and  difficult,  and  the  trust  of  which  is  of 
much  more  importance  to  the  public  and  to  your¬ 
self,  than  is  generally  admitted. 

You  are  to  assume  the  duties  of  an  executive 
officer  of  criminal  law,  of  the  ordinances  of  a  great 
commercial  city,  and  as  a  conservator  of  the  public 
peace.  Your  acts  will  at  all  times  be  subject  to 
the  observation  and  the  animadversion  of  the 
public,  and  on  the  stand-point  where  you  com¬ 
mence,  and  the  course  which  you  pursue,  depends 
not  only  much  of  the  welfare  of  the  community  in 
which  you  move,  but  the  credit  of  the  department 
to  which  you  belong,  and  your  own  success  as  an 
officer  and  a  man. 

At  the  commencement,  do  not  forget  that  in  this 
business  your  character  is  your  capital.  Deal  hon¬ 
orably  with  all  persons,  and  hold  your  word  sacred, 
no  matter  when,  where,  or  to  whom  given.  If 

29* 


342 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


you  are  entrusted  with  the  care  of  a  beat,  do  not 
play  the  loafer  on  it  by  lounging  in  doorways  or 
on  corners,  or  leaning  against  lamp-posts,  but 
patrol  your  district  continually  ;  make  it  your  busi¬ 
ness  to  know  what  is  doing  on  every  part  of  it,  as 
far  as  practicable,  without  unnecessary  interfer¬ 
ence  ;  let  no  person  or  circumstance  escape  your 
notice,  and  be  able  at  all  times  to  give  information 
respecting  any  circumstance  of  importance  occur¬ 
ring  thereon.  Learn  the  people  residing  or  doing 
business  on  your  beat;  protect  their  property; 
make  yourself  useful,  and  aid  them  in  all  their 
lawful  pursuits,  and  by  an  upright  and  straight¬ 
forward  course,  and  a  close  attention  to  duty,  en¬ 
deavor  to  merit  the  good  will  of  all  good  citizens. 
You  know  not  how  soon  you  may  need  their  aid, 
and  their  favor  will  add  much  to  your  power  and 
influence  to  do  good.  But  in  the  pursuance  of 
your  duties,  as  much  as  possible  avoid  laying  your¬ 
self  under  special  obligation  to  any  one  ;  let  your 
services  rather  place  others  under  an  obligation  to 
you.  You  know  not  how  soon  your  duties  may 
peremptorily  demand  that  you  act  hi  opposition  to 
some  individual  interest. 

Lend  a  willing  ear  to  all  complaints  made  to  you 
in  your  official  capacity ;  the  most  unworthy  have 
a  right  to  be  heard,  and  a  word  of  comfort  to  the 
afflicted,  or  of  advice  to  the  erring,  costs  you 
nothing,  and  may  do  much  good. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS.  343 

\ 

In  ordinary  cases,  if  you  find  yourself  in  a  posi¬ 
tion  not  knowing  exactly  what  to  do,  better  do  too 
little  than  too  much ;  it  is  easier  to  excuse  a  mod¬ 
erate  course  than  an  overt  act.  But  if  an  act  of 
great  violence  has  been  committed,  secure  the 
offender  the  first  possible  moment ;  delay  increases 
his  chance  of  escape ;  there  are  always  plenty  of 
willing  hands  to  care  for  the  party  he  may  have 
injured. 

Whenever  it  is  necessary  to  make  an  arrest,  and 
you  attempt  to  do  it,  don't  fail ;  but  use  no  more 
force  than  is  necessary  to  protect  yourself  and 
secure  your  man. 

If  you  have  a  prisoner  in  custody,  keep  him  before 
you ,  do  not  trust  him  behind  ;  he  might  escape,  or 
he  might  injure  you,  and,  besides,  bystanders 
might  mistake  you  for  the  criminal,  being  in  his 
place.  If  an  arrest  is  necessary,  so  is  care  and 
caution. 

A  warrant  directed  to  the  Police  Officers  of  the 
City  of  Boston ,  may  be  executed  by  you,  none  other. 
Such  a  warrant  legally  carries  you  through  any 
door  within  your  precinct  where  the  offender  may 
really  be  ;  but  before  executing  any  warrant,  read 
it ,  and  see  what  are  its  directions  and  require¬ 
ments  ;  and  when  executed,  have  your  prisoner  at 
court  at  its  first  sitting,  never  omitting  to  make 
your  return  on  your  warrant  over  your  own  official 
signature,  else  you  have  made  a  false  arrest,  and 
may  be  held  liable. 


344 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


The  offences  for  which  persons  may  be  legally 
arrested  without  a  warrant,  are,  felony  (crime  pun¬ 
ishable  in  State’s  Prison),  assault  and  battery  in 
your  presence ,  persisting  in  disturbing  the  peace, 
and  drunkenness.  Simple  larceny  is  not  included 
in  the  statute,  but  common  practice  will,  I  think, 
justify  an  officer  in  taking  a  person  charged  with 
that  crime  to  the  Station  House,  for  the  direction 
of  his  captain.  Other  cases  may  occur,  which  will 
require  much  good  judgment  and  discretion  to 
determine  what  is  proper. 

If  you  are  called  to  the  witness-stand,  give  in 
your  evidence  clearly  and  distinctly,  but  as  briefly 
as  the  whole  facts  can  be  stated.  On  no  account 
let  any  personal  feeling  creep  into  your  testimony, 
nor  ever  disgrace  yourself  in  the  eyes  of  the  court, 
or  prejudice  your  case,  by  a  show  of  malice,  or  an 
attempt  to  color  the  facts ;  and  never  give  as  one 
reason  that  you  made  an  arrest,  that  “  he  was  saucy .” 

No  officer  can  be  successful  or  efficient  in  the 
execution  of  his  duties,  unless  he  understands  the 
requirements  of  the  laws  and  ordinances.  Spare 
no  pains  in  posting  yourself  in  these  matters ;  rec¬ 
ollect  that  by  virtue  of  your  police  warrant,  you 
can  only  serve  a  criminal  process.  Every  Police 
Officer  should  be  familiar  with  the  law  or  ordi¬ 
nance  he  is  to  execute,  and  he  should  also  know 
enough  of  the  civil  law  to  distinguish  between  the 
two. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


345 


Visit  the  courts  as  often  as  practicable,  and  make 
yourself  familiar  with  their  rules  and  practices, 
that  when  called  as  a  witness,  you  may  not  appear 
a  stranger. 

Carry  with  you  at  all  times  a  memorandum-book, 
and  let  it  contain  some  record  relative  to  your 
duties  every  day ;  it  will  be  of  great  value  as  a 
reference. 

Let  promptness  mark  all  your  acts  ;  don’t  be  the 
last  man  at  roll-call,  or  at  your  post  of  duty,  nor 
leave  your  post  without  orders ;  and  never  keep  a 

person  waiting  for  you  one  moment  after  the  ap¬ 
pointed  time. 

In  whatever  duty  you  engage,  set  your  mind  and 
your  face  to  the  work,  and  while  on  duty,  never 
suffer  yourself  to  appear  like  an  idle  spectator. 
Make  promptness  a  rule  for  yourself,  and  require 
it  of  others. 

School  yourself  on  all  occasions  to  keep  perfectly 
cool ;  maintain  a  perfect  control  of  temper,  come 
what  will :  one  that  can  govern  himself,  can  con¬ 
trol  others.  Never  degrade  your  position  by  plac¬ 
es  yourself  on  a  level  with  a  drunken  man  or  a 
man  in  a  passion,  by  suffering  his  abuse  to  get  you 
in  a  passion  also. 

Remembei  that  in  yrour  official  duties,  you  are 
continually  and  eminently  exposed  to  the  ten  thou¬ 
sand  snares  and  temptations  in  city  life.  I  charge 
you,  as  you  value  the  character  of  the  Department 


346 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


to  which  you  belong,  as  you  value  your  own  char¬ 
acter  and  happiness,  and  the  fondest  hopes  of  your 
friends,  beware ,  be  ever  on  your  guard  ;  “  be  not  de¬ 
ceived,  nor  led  into  temptation.”  Select  your 
associates  with  care.  66  A  man  is  known  by  the 
company  he  keeps ;  ”  you  will  learn  to  so  judge 
others,  and  others  will  so  judge  you. 

Treat  all  persons  kindly ;  avoid  discussion  in 
politics ;  pay  your  honest  debts,  and  lay  up  what 
you  can  spare  for  a  sick-day.  And,  finally,  in 
whatever  duties  you  engage,  either  in  public  or 
private  life,  let  all  your  acts  he  guided  by  a 
common-sense  view  of  men  and  things  that  sur¬ 
round  you. 

I  might  say  more,  but  should  I,  you  would  still 
have  to  go  out  and  learn  your  duty. 


CONSCRIPTION  RIOT. 


The  opening  of  the  spring  of  1863  witnessed 
the  renewal  of  hostilities  between  the  loyal  and  the 
seceding  States  with  redoubled  vigor.  The  last 
session  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  in 
anticipation  of  this  event,  had  clothed  President 
Lincoln  with  extraordinary  powers  to  meet  the 
emergency  by  passing  the  so-called  Conscription 
Act,  for  drafting  men  for  three  years  or  during  the 
war. 

Early  in  June,  under  this  law,  the  President 
issued  his  proclamation,  calling  for  three  hundred 
thousand  men.  The  enrolment  was  to  consist  of 
two  classes,  —  first,  those  between  the  ages  of 
eighteen  and  thirty-five,  and  all  unmarried  men 
between  thirty-five  and  forty-five  ;  the  second  class 
comprised  all  married  men  between  the  ages  of 
thirty-five  and  forty-five,  —  the  first  class  to  be  ex¬ 
hausted  by  the  draft  before  the  second  were  to  be 
drawn. 

In  this  law  various  exemption  clauses  were  pro¬ 
vided,  among  which  was  the  commutation  fee, 


348 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


whereby  the  drafted  man  was  entitled  to  exemption 
on  the  payment  of  three  hundred  dollars. 

It  has  ever  been  a  difficult  task  to  please  every¬ 
body  where  life  or  money  is  at  stake ;  and  where 
partisanship  is  in  any  way  involved  in  the  case,  the 
undertaking  is  much  more  difficult ;  but  whether 
this  was  a  case  in  point,  I  shall  not  stop  to  argue. 
One  fact  is  patent,  however,  there  was  much  oppo¬ 
sition  to  the  draft  even  in  Massachusetts,  and  the 
three  hundred  dollar  commutation  clause  was  a 
theme  for  many  an  eloquent  animadversion. 

However,  Provost  Marshals  were  appointed  in 
the  several  congressional  districts  in  all  the  loyal 
States,  who,  with  their  assistants,  wrere  to  supervise 
and  execute  the  enrolment  and  draft  under  the 
direction  of  a  Provost  Marshal  General. 

The  quota  of  Massachusetts  amounted  to  some¬ 
thing  over  eighteen  thousand  men,  of  which  Boston 
was  to  furnish  about  thirty-three  hundred.  The 
head- quarters  of  the  Provost  Marshal,  comprising 
the  southern  wards,  Roxbury,  and  Brookline,  was 
at  No.  22  Summer  Street,  and  that  of  the  northern 
wards,  Cambridge,  Chelsea,  and  Winthrop,  were 
at  No.  106  Sudbury  Street.  At  the  former,  Mar¬ 
shal  George  A.  Shaw ;  at  the  latter,  Marshal 
William  G.  Howe. 

The  marshals  immediately  commenced  to  canvass 
their  districts,  and  on  the  eighth  day  of  July  fol¬ 
lowing  the  enrolment  was  completed,  and  drafting 
commenced  in  Boston. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


34b 


The  names  and  residence  of  those  belonging  to 
the  first  class  were  placed  in  an  octagonal,  or  cir¬ 
cular  globe,  revolving  by  a  crank. 

After  several  revolutions  of  the  wheel  by  one  of 
the  assistants,  another,  who  stood  by  blindfolded, 
thrust  his  hand  into  a  slide  door  at  the  top  of  the 
wheel  and  drew  forth  one  ticket,  which  he  held 
up  and  passed  to  another  assistant,  who.  after  read¬ 
ing  the  name  aloud,  passed  it  over  to  the  clerk, 
when  the  name  and  residence  were  recorded,  and 
the  man  whose  name  was  on  the  card  was  elected . 

In  this  manner  the  draft  was  proceeded  with 
day  after  day,  till,  as  was  supposed,  a  sufficient 
number  of  names  had  been  drawn  to  fill  the  quota, 
allowing  an  excess  of  fifty  per  cent  to  make  up 
exemptions. 

Many  spectators  were  present,  all  seemingly 
deeply  interested  in  this  new  kind  of  lottery  ;  and 
when  one  who  was  present  chanced  to  draw  some¬ 
thing  more  than  a  blank,  he  would  immediately 
receive-  the  hearty  cheers  of  the  bystanders,  and 
start  off,  if  not  quite  satisfied,  yet  apparently  con¬ 
vinced  that  life  is  a  lottery,  and  it  is  not  always  the 
most  fortunate  that  draws  the  prize. 

So  far  as  Boston  was  concerned,  there  was  yet 
no  indication  of  a  design  to  interfere  with  the 
draft,  although  some  persons  in  high  places  spoke 
of  the  conscription  as  unconstitutional,  unjust,  and 

* 

oppressive,  and  others  avowed  their  determination, 

30 


350 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


if  drafted,  to  neither  go,  pay,  nor  furnish  a  sub¬ 
stitute. 

On  the  14th  of  July,  the  draft  for  the  Boston 
districts  was  completed,  and  the  assistants  were 
sent  out  to  notify  those  whose  names  had  been 
drawn  to  appear  at  the  Marshal’s  Office  and  un¬ 
dergo  the  surgical  examination. 

At  this  time,  and  for  about  two  days  previous,  a 
most  fearful  riot  had  been  raging  in  New  York 
city,  got  up  and  carried  on  by  those  opposed  to  the 
draft  in  that  locality,  with  a  most  fearful  sacrifice 
of  life  and  property ;  and  there  began  to  appear 
certain  indications  that  the  same  dreadful  contagion 
lay  hidden  beneath  the  surface  in  our  own  city. 
The  fact  that  the  mob  were  in  the  ascendent  in 
New  York,  which  was  loudly  heralded  through 
the  streets  in  the  hourly  newspaper  issues,  by  no 
means  served  to  allay  the  turbulent  spirit  here, 
which  was  fast  ripening  for  action. 

About  one  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  of  this  day, 
two  assistant  Provost  Marshals  from  the  Fourth 
District  were  distributing  their  notices  in  Prince 
Street  near  the  Gas  Works,  and  went  into  a  house 
to  serve  a  notice.  The  woman  supposing  they  had 
come  to  take  her  husband  away,  followed  the 
marshals  into  the  street,  hurling  at  their  heads 
every  article  within  her  reach,  and  screeching  like 
a  raving  maniac.  In  an  instant  the  street  was 
filled  with  infuriated  men  and  women,  each  vieing 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


351 


■with  the  other  in  revenging  their  imaginary 
wrongs.  The  two  officers  were  set  upon,  bruised 
and  beaten  in  a  most  inhuman  manner,  barely  es¬ 
caping  with  their  lives.  Several  citizens,  also, 
who  attempted  to  reason  with  the  mob,  were  badly 
injured,  and  a  store  at  the  junction  of  Endicott  and 
Charlestown  streets,  through  which  the  assistant- 
marshals  succeeded  in  making  their  escape,  was 
damaged  and  robbed. 

This  was  the  commencement  of  a  scene  such  as 
has  not  been  witnessed  in  Boston  since  it  became 
a  city.  At  the  first  alarm  several  policemen,  who 
were  on  duty  on  their  respective  beats  in  the 
neighborhood,  immediately  hurried  to  the  scene  of 
disorder  ;  but  their  presence  only  excited  the  mob, 
who  immediately  commenced  an  onslaught,  and 
the  officers,  being  but  few  in  number,  and  arriving 
at  opposite  points,  made  but  a  sorry  show  with  the 
several  hundred  madmen  that  filled  the  streets. 

Several  officers  from  Stations  No.  One  and  No. 
Two  were  struck  down,  and  so  severely  hurt  that 
for  many  days  their  lives  were  despaired  of,  and 
others  were  materially  injured;  in  fact,  all  the 
officers  present  only  escaped  death  on  the  spot  in 
consequence  of  the  anxiety  of  the  mob  on  the  out¬ 
side  to  press  into  the  centre,  literally  forcing  away 
those  who  were  dealing  death-blows  on  their  fallen 
victims,  thereby  themselves  defeating  their  own 
object,  and  giving  the  officers  an  opportunity  to 


352 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


crawl  away  with  what  little  of  life  remained,  the 
enraged  mass  in  their  progress  overrunning  and 
trampling  under  foot  many  of  their  own  number, 
without  regard  to  age  or  sex. 

When  the  rioters  had  lost  sight  of  the  officers, 
they  ran  howling  through  the  streets  like  so  many 
demons,  in  quest  of  some  object  on  which  to  vent 
their  fury,  and  meeting  with  nothing  seemingly 
worthy  their  notice,  a  large  number  headed  for  the 
Hanover  Street  Station  House,  and  in  a  few  mo¬ 
ments  a  mass  of  many  hundreds  were  crowded 
together  in  that  locality ;  but  as  no  one  was  in 
custody,  and  nothing  appearing  there  to  furnish 
fuel  for  the  flame,  they  offered  no  violence.  The 
violent  exercise  so  lately  indulged  in,  the  day  being 
hot,  might  also  have  had  its  influence  in  cooling 
their  ardor. 

The  whole  transaction  as  above  narrated  prob¬ 
ably  occupied  not  more  than  twenty  minutes,  and 
word  immediately  came  to  the  Central  Office  of 
what  had  transpired. 

The  news  was  not  wholly  unexpected,  but  it 
was  not  looked  for  so  soon ;  anticipation  of  trouble 
had  been  entertained  when  arrests  began  to  be 
made  of  conscripts  for  non-appearance  after  being 
duly  notified ;  but  we  had  not  got  to  that.  How¬ 
ever,  the  moment  the  news  came,  an  order  calling 
together  the  police  of  the  Second  Station  was 
given,  and  the  writer,  who  was  at  the  time  in 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


353 


charge  of  the  Central  Office,  started  for  the  North 
End.  On  reaching  the  Station  House  in  Hanover 
Street,  he  found  a  collection  of  some  two  thousand 
persons,  of  all  ages  and  sexes,  standing  in  the 
streets,  but  they  were  perfectly  quiet,  strikingly  so. 
There  were  some  dozen  officers  at  the  Station 
House,  but  no  person  had  been  arrested,  neither 
was  there  any  apparent  cause  for  the  gathering. 
The  writer  had  been  in  charge  of  that  Station  for 
several  years,  and  the  crowd  being  principally 
North  End  people,  he  was  probably  known  to  a 
greater  part  of  those  present,  and  he  took  the  op¬ 
portunity  to  go  out  upon  the  steps  and  say  to  those 
present  that  no  one  was  in  custody  at  that  House  ; 
there  was  no  cause  for  excitement  or  alarm,  and 
earnestly  begged  of  them  to  retire  quietly  to 
them  homes  or  places  of  business.  But  it  was 
like  talking  to  trees ;  the  crowd  listened  in  silence, 
and  some  near  by  would  step  back  a.  few  paces, 
but  it  did  not  number  one  less,  while  the  indication 
of  those  upturned  faces  seemed  to  forebode  no 
good. 

The  writer  then  left  the  steps  and  passed  quietly 
among  the  people,  speaking  with  many  that  he 
knew ;  but  he  soon  learned  for  a  fact,  what  he  had 
before  suspected,  that  very  many  were  armed  with 
various  weapons.  This,  together  with  the  general 
appearance  of  the  crowd,  what  they  had  already 
done,  with  now  and  then  a  suppressed  threat  that 

30* 


354 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


met  the  ear,  but  too  plainly  indicated  that  there 
was  “  mischief  in  the  meal”  and  there  was  no  time 
to  lose  in  preparing  for  it.  To  attempt  to  clear 
the  streets  with  the  force  at  hand  was  worse  than 
useless  ;  ten  or  twelve  men  could  not  control  the 
hundreds  there  collected,  with  the  temper  they 
plainly  possessed,  and  to  attempt  and  fail,  would 
likely  be  a  signal  for  a  general  outbreak ;  we  were 
not  ready  for  that  If  there  was  no  excuse  offered 
the  outbreak  would  not  likely  occur  till  favored  by 
the  darkness  of  night ;  that  would  give  time  to  pre¬ 
pare.  But  should  the  Police  suffer  that  crowd  to  have 
exclusive  possession  of  the  streets  that  afternoon  with¬ 
out  an  effort?  After  consulting  with  the  captain 
of  the  Station,  the  writer  started  for  Station  No. 
2,  in  Court  Square,  for  more  officers,  with  a  deter¬ 
mination  to  clear  those  streets  at  all  hazards.  But 
he  was  not  to  go  alone,  and  at  least  fifteen  hundred 
of  every  age  and  sex  (there  was  little  diversity  of 
color)  formed  a  most  uncouth  escort  up  Hanover 
Street,  without,  however,  offering  any  abuse  save  a 
continued  round  of  shouts,  half  complimentary  and 
half  defiant. 

The  company  was  none  too  pleasant,  but  it 
effected  a  most  desirable  object  little  calculated  on 
at  the  start,  namely,  successfully  removing  the 
crowd  from  the  Hanover  Street  Station  House, 
and  which  superseded  the  necessity  of  returning 
with  a  force  from  Station  No.  2.  The  mob, 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


355 


however,  or  at  least  a  part  of  them,  followed  to 
Court  Square  ;  but  that  locality  soon  grew  a  little 
uncomfortable  for  them,  and  quiet  was  restored 
for  the  time. 

It  was  now  nearly  two  o’clock.  His  Honor  the 
Mayor,  the  Chief  of  Police,  and  members  of  the 
City  Government  were  at  once  fully  aware  of  the 
responsibilities  resting  on  tbsm,  and  from  that  mo¬ 
ment  no  one  was  idle.  It  was  well  known  that  a 
lawless  mob  were  at  that  moment  bidding  defiance 
to  law  and  order  in  the  city  of  New  York.  Were 
we  to  have  its  counterpart  in  our  own  city,  and 
not  be  prepared  to  meet  it  % 

Our  Police  force  were  immediately  prepared  for 
their  work,  and  armed  with  weapons  suitable  for 
the  occasion.  Fire-alarm  bell  signals  were  so 
arranged  as  to  call  the  whole  Police  force,  or  any 
part  thereof,  to  either  part  of  the  city  ;  sentinels 
were  placed  at  various  points,  and  scouts  to  all 
parts  of  the  city  were  passing  to  and  fro  from  the 
Central  Office.  Officers  were  patrolling  every  part 
of  the  city,  ready  to  pass  the  word  if  any  disturb¬ 
ance  occurred,  and  the  whole  force  were  ready  for 
duty.  Nor  Was  this  deemed  sufficient.  Orders 
were  immediately  issued  by  the  Mayor  to  call  out 
the  State  Military,  who  were  ordered  to  be  in 
readiness  at  their  Armories  without  delay,  and  a 
detachment  of  Regulars,  numbering  about  one  hun¬ 
dred  and  seventy-five  men,  were  also  sent  up  from 
Fort  Warren. 


356 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


It  was  nearly  three  o’clock  p.  m.  when  the  first 
step  of  preparation  was  taken ;  at  six  o’clock  the 
authorities  were  ready  for  any  emergency. 

The  crowd  of  persons  that  gathered  at  the  north 
part  of  the  city  early  in  the  afternoon,  did  not  en¬ 
tirely  disperse  after  leaving  the  ITanover  Street 
Station  House,  but  were  seen  in  squads  at  different 
points  in  that  part  of  the  city ;  but  no  further  out¬ 
break  occurred  during  the  afternoon. 

No  arrests  had  been  made  of  those  engaged  in 
the  riot  in  Prince  or  Endicott  Street,  for  the  reason 
that  no  identification  of  the  guilty  parties  could 
then  be  made,  the  officers  being  too  seriously  in¬ 
jured  to  leave  their  beds,  and  citizens  who  knew, 
not  daring  to  open  their  lips. 

At  six  o’clock  the  military  companies  of  the  city 
had  quietly  repaired  to  their  respective  Armories, 
one  by  one,  and  every  Police  officer  was  at  his  post. 

It  was  the  design  of  the  City  Government  to 
make  no  unnecessary  display,  and  to  pursue  no 
course  that  could  be  construed  into  a  menace 
which  might  add  fuel  to  the  flame,  hut  to  be  pre¬ 
pared  to  crush  at  a  blow  any  demonstration  that 
could  be  made,  no  matter  at  what  point  or  how 
formidable ;  but  they  were  prepared  none  too  well 
or  too  soon,  as  the  sequel  will  show. 

About  seven  o’clock  in  the  evening,  the  Regulars 
from  Fort  Warren  came  down  Hanover  Street, 
leaving  a  detachment  at  the  Armory  in  Marshal 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


357 


Street,  and  passed  with  the  remainder  down  Salem 
and  Cooper  Street,  without  music,  so  as  not  to 
attract  a  crowd.  On  their  arrival  at  Cooper,  that 
street  was  densely  filled  with  an  excited  mob, 
armed  with  pistols,  clubs,  paving-stones,  bricks, 
and  other  missiles ;  but  the  military  steadily  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  the  Gunhouse,  where  a  Battery  was 
already  in  quarters. 

The  Regulars  had  hardly  reached  the  Gun- 
house,  when  a  perfect  shower  of  missiles  were 
hurled  at  them  and  the  building.  Sidewalks  were 
torn  up  by  the  rod  by  women  and  children,  and 
carried  forward  to  men  and  boys  in  front,  and  the 
mob  commenced  a  siege  in  good  earnest.  Various 
persons  in  the  streets  who  had  been  attracted  by 
the  tumult,  were  knocked  .down  and  severely 
beaten,  the  Rioters  seeming  to  be  determined  that 
none  but  their  own  gang  should  remain  in  the 
neighborhood.  A  Lieutenant  of  the  Battery,  who 
arrived  alone  just  after  the  Regulars  had  entered 
the  G unhouse,  was  struck  down,  trampled  under 
foot,  and  dragged  out  towards  Endicott  Street  for 
dead. 

When  the  Battery  entered  the  Gunhouse, 
which  was  as  early  as  six  o’clock,  the  commander 
had  requested  a  Police  officer  of  the  First  Station, 
who  lived  near  by,  to  stand  at  the  North  Margin 
Street  door  of  the  Gunhouse,  which  was  open,  and 
allow  no  citizen  to  pass.  The  officer  remained  at 


358 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


this  door  till  about  the  time  of  the  assault  on  the 
Lieutenant  of  the  Battery.  The  mob  having  col¬ 
lected  on  the  Cooper  Street  side,  where  the  Reg¬ 
ulars  entered,  when  the  Lieutenant  was  attacked, 
some  one  informed  the  Police  officer,  and  he 
communicated  the  information  to  the  military 
commander  inside  the  Armory,  who  immediately 
dispatched  a  Lieutenant  with  a  file  of  men  to  go 
out  and  rescue  the  Lieutenant.  About  this  time 
the  outside  on  North  Margin  Street  began  to  grow 
a  little  warm,  and  the  Police  officer,  with  his 
father,  an  elderly  gentleman,  who  had  been  stand¬ 
ing  near,  both  stepped  inside  the  Gunhouse.  The 
Lieutenant  and  his  command  at  once  left  the 
house,  by  the  North  Margin  Street  door,  and 
charged  round  into  Cooper  towards  Endicott  Street, 
where  they  found  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Battery 
lying  senseless  in  the  gutter.  They  took  him  up 
and  attempted  to  return ;  but  the  mob  had  filled 
in  the  rear  so  densely  and  determined,  that  the  sol¬ 
diers  were  obliged  to  charge  on  them  with  fixed 
bayonets,  to  again  reach  North  Margin  Street,  on 
their  way  back  to  the  Gunhouse.  As  the  military 
filed  into  North  Margin  Street,  the  mob  made  a 
furious  attack  on  the  rear  with  bricks,  stone-s, 
clubs,  and  a  plentiful  discharge  of  pistols.  The 
attack  was  so  furious  that  the  Lieutenant  ordered 
his  men  to  wheel  and  fire,  to  preserve  their  own 
safety.  This  only  seemed  to  increase  the  fury  of 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


359 


the  assailants,  and  they  being  apparently  well 
armed,  and  vastly  superior  in  numbers,  the  Lieu¬ 
tenant  thought  prudent  to  retire  inside  the  Gun- 
house  as  soon  as  possible. 

As  soon  as  the  military  were  under  cover,  the 
mob  seemed  to  feel  that  they  had  gained  the 
ascendency,  and  renewed  the  attack  on  the  Gun- 
house,  on  the  Cooper  Street  side,  with  redoubled 
fury.  Every  window  and  some  of  the  doors  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  house  were  soon  broken,  and  the 
mob  were  improving  all  opportunities  to  fire  upon 
those  inside,  through  the  broken  doors  and  win¬ 
dows  ;  but  there  were  preparations  made  by  the 
military  that  the  assailants  outside  had  not  counted 
on.  These  were  held  in  reserve  till  urged  forward 
by  the  most  pressing  necessity.  When  the  com¬ 
mand  of  the  Lieutenant  retired  inside,  two  brass 
field-pieces  were  brought  forward  and  manned, 
one  at  the  Cooper  Street  door,  which  was  closed 
and  barred,  the  other  at  the  North  Margin  Street 
door,  which  was  still  open.  Both  were  charged  to 
meet  any  emergency,  and  flanked  by  the  infantry, 
with  loaded  Spring-fields.  In  a  few  moments  the 
llioters  had  demolished  all  but  the  double  door  on 
the  Cooper  Street  side,  and  those  heavy  oak  doors 
were  fast  giving  way.  It  was  supposed  to  be  the 
intention  of  the  mob  to  storm  the  house,  secure 
the  firearms,  and  turn  them  upon  whoever  might 
interfere  with  their  progress.  In  that  emergency 


360 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


there  seemed  to  be  but  one  course  for  the  militaiy 
to  pursue  ;  at  any  rate  self-defence  was  justifiable, 
and  at  this  moment  this  was  the  only  question  at 
issue,  and  that,  to  be  effectual,  must  be  acted  upon 
without  delay.  The  commander  was  not  long  in 
forming  a  determination,  and  just>  as  the  Cooper 
Street  door  was  giving  way,  the  order  was  given  to 
the  Artillery  men  to  fire,  and  a  brass  cannon  swept 
all  before  it.  The  mass  of  human  beings  outside 
surged  back ;  but  they  soon  recovered,  and  came 
rushing  forward  again ;  but  they  were  promptly 
met  by  powder  and  ininnie  ball  in  such  profusion 
that  they  again  fell  back,  and  sullenly  retired  from 
the  near  locality  of  the  door  for  the  time.  At  the 
time  the  Police  officer  and  his  father  retired  inside 
the  Gunhouse,  they  both  stood  for  a  moment  near 
the  North  Margin  Street  door ;  but  as  soon  as  the 
cannon  were  placed  in  position,  by  the  advice  of 
his  son,  the  old  gentleman  went  over  upon  the 
back  or  west  side  of  the  room,  where  some  soldiers 
were  standing,  as  a  place  of  safety.  His  son  last 
saw  him,  alive,  standing  there  ;  he  was  on  the  left 
of  three  soldiers,  facing  the  Cooper  Street  door, 
and  was  noticed  and  spoken  to  by  one  of  them. 
He  was  unwittingly  standing  just  in  range  of  a 
front  window  and  side  door,  both  of  which  had 
been  broken  in,  and  at  that  point  he  was  shot  by  a 
ball  entering  his  body  near  the  left  breast  and 
coming  out  under  and  just  back  of  his  right  arm. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


361 


He  fell  dead  at  the  feet  of  the  soldiers.  This 
was  a  few  moments  before  the  cannon  were  dis¬ 
charged. 

The  dead  man  was  immediately  taken  up  by  the 
soldiers,  and  removed  upstairs,  with  others  who 
had  been  wounded  in  the  fray,  where  he  was  rec¬ 
ognized  by  his  son. 

Word  was  immediately  conveyed  by  a  messenger 
to  the  Central  Office,  but  the  extent  of  the  difficulty 
was  not  then  fully  known.  A  posse  of  Police, 
however,  were  forthwith  sent  to  Cooper  Street, 
under  the  charge  of  a  competent  officer;  but  on 
arriving  in  the  neighborhood,  and  learning  the  true 
state  of  affairs,  he  reported  back  to  the  Central 
Office.  While  making  his  report,  a  scout  arrived 
bringing  intelligence  that  the  cannon  had  been  dis¬ 
charged  in  Cooper  Street,  and  the  mob  were  head¬ 
ing  up  town.  While  he  was  speaking,  a  second 
messenger  reported  the  mob  rushing  up  Salem 
and  Endicott  Street,  crying  out,  “  To  Dock  Square , 
bogs — to  Read's  Store  !  We'll  give 'em  New  York !” 
&c.  The  idea  at  once  occurred  that  they  were 
rushing  to  the  hardware  stores,  for  firearms  and 
ammunition.  The  officer  who  was  first  sent  out 
was  ordered  to  proceed  at  once,  with  all  the  Police 
force  at  hand,  and  clear  Dock  Square  at  all  haz¬ 
ards  ;  and  then  came  the  ominous  sound  of  the 

i 

alarm  bells  throughout  the  city,  eleven  strokes 
three  times  repeated.  At  seven  o’clock  the  assault 

31 


362 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


on  the  Cooper  Street  Armory  was  commenced  by 
the  Rioters  ;  at  eight  o’clock  the  field-piece  was 
discharged ;  at  fifteen  minntes  past  eight  the  signal 
alarm  was  given ;  and  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes 
more  Mayor  Lincoln,  at  the  head  of  the  Cavalry 
and  Infantry,  was  on  his  way  from  Court  Square  to 
the  scene  of  disorder. 

The  Police  who  had  been  sent  to  Dock  Square 
wrere  doing  their  work  nobly;  they  reached  the 
Square  before  the  Rioters  had  much  time  to  secure 
arms  or  ammunition.  Por  a  time  they  were  strug¬ 
gling  against  fearful  odds  in  numbers,  but  the  alarm 
bells  brought  reinforcements  in  a  few  moments. 

The  Rioters  had  reached  several  stores  in  Dock 
Square,  where  they  demolished  doors  and  windows, 
and  secured  a  small  quantity  of  firearms  ;  but  they 
were  rushed  upon  by  the  Police,  who  were  well 
armed,  and  driven  from  the  stores. 

Another  gang  had  attacked  a  store  in  Faneuil 
Hall  Square,  where  a  large  quantity  of  arms  was 
known  to  be  kept ;  but  here  they  met  with  no 
better  success,  being  there  also  furiously  attacked 
by  the  Police.  Although  most  of  the  mob  beat  a 
retreat  when  they  were  met  with  powder  and  ball, 
yet  there  were  some  master  spirits  who  stood  their 
ground,  and  fought  desperately.  One  man,  who 
had  a  musket,  cried  out  to  his  fellows,  “  Don’t  run, 
like  cowards,  but  let  us  give  the  dam’  Yankees 
hell !  ”  lie  discharged  his  piece  at  one  of  the 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


363 


officers,  and  then  with  his  musket  clubbed,  rushed 
upon  him.  He  however  missed  his  aim,  and  broke 
the  breach  of  his  piece  on  the  sidewalk ;  he  struck 
again,  and  bent  the  barrel  of  his  piece  over  the 
officer’s  head.  He  received  one  bullet  in  his  arm, 
and  another  in  his  head,  before  he  was  arrested, 
and  fought  desperately  after  that.  He  was  after¬ 
wards  recognized  as  a  ringleader  at  Charlestown, 
Endicott,  and  Prince  Streets,  early  in  the  afternoon, 
and  also  at  Cooper  Street,  in  the  early  part  of  the 
evening. 

Another  ringleader  was  also  arrested  near  Dock 
S quaie,  about  the  same  time,  who  was  brandishing 
a  large  knife,  and  boasting  of  his  daring  deeds 
duiing  the  evening.  But  few  arrests,  however, 
were  made  at  that  time,  the  Bioters  being  so 
stiong  in  numbers  that  the  Police  could  hardly 
afford  to  diminish  their  own  force  to  carry  off 
prisoners. 

The  military  force,  headed  by  the  Mayor  and 
Chief  of  Police,  reached  Dock  and  Paneuil  Hall 
squares  soon  after  the  affray  between  the  Police 
and  the  mob,  and  the  Bioters  were  driven  from 
that  locality,  the  military  holding  possession  till 
next  day. 

At  about  half  past  twelve  o’clock,  a  fire  alarm  was 
sounded  in  District  No.  One,  —  the  Cooper  Street 
Armory  had  been  fired.  Previous  to  this,  the 
military  from  this  place  had  removed  their  arm- 


364 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


ament  to  Dock  Square ;  the  dead  and  wounded 
had  been  removed  to  more  convenient  and  proper 
places,  and  the  house  had  been  closed;  but  the 
incendiary  had  applied  his  torch  in  the  rear  of  the 
building,  and  the  flames  were  beginning  to  make 
headway.  Four  Police  officers,  however,  were 
immediately  on  the  spot,  broke  in  at  the  door  of 
the  Armory,  and  commenced  to  extinguish  the 
flames.  They  were  immediately  attacked  with 
bricks,  stones,  and  pistol-shots  by  those  still  lurk¬ 
ing  in  the  neighborhood ;  but  these  compliments 
were  returned  with  such  promptness  and  vigor 
that  the  assailants,  who  were  not  now  in  large 
numbers,  and  who  had  been  treated  to  a  like  enter¬ 
tainment  on  the  same  ground  earlier  in  the  eve¬ 
ning,  thought  it  prudent  to  retire,  leaving  the 
officers  to  turn  their  attention  to  the  fire,  which 
they  kept  in  check  till  the  fire  department  arrived. 

The  names  of  these  brave  and  determined  men, 
who,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  prevented  a  confla¬ 
gration  on  that  already  fearful  night,  should  be 
given  here ;  but  where  so  many  officers  merit  so 
much  as  was  really  due  them  for  that  night’s  ser¬ 
vice,  the  names  of  all  cannot  be  given,  and  justice 
seems  to  forbid  a  distinction. 

Although  the  organization,  if  there  was  one,  had 
been  substantially  broken  at  Dock  Square  and 
elsewhere  during  the  evening,  yet  fragments  were 
still  lurking  about  the  streets,  evidently  bent  on 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


365 


mischief,  and  the  Police  and  military  were  con¬ 
stantly  on  the  alert. 

About  two  o’clock  in  the  morning,  word  came 
to  the  Central  Office  that  an  attack  was  to  be  made 
on  the  property  of  a  worthy  citizen  at  the  extreme 
north  part  of  the  city.  Although  these  reports 
were  numerous  dining  the  night,  it  was  deemed 
prudent  that  none  of  them  be  unheeded,  and  in 
this  case  a  squad  of  Police  was  despatched  to  that 
point.  They  arrived  none  too  soon  to  prevent  the 
mischief  intended ;  the  attempt  was  made,  but  the 
military  soon  reinforced  the  Police,  and  the  attack 
resulted  in  breaking  a  few  panes  of  glass,  the 
waste  of  a  few  rounds  of  ammunition,  a  few  broken 
heads,  and  the  arrest  of  another  ringleader.  This 
was  the  last  effort  made  by  that  mob,  so  powerful 
in  numbers,  so  determined  in  its  action,  so  fear¬ 
ful  in  its  intentions. 

Among  the  many  who  were  on  that  night,  and 
subsequently,  arrested  for  participating  in  the  riot, 
were  five  ringleaders,  who  were  charged  with  the 
murder  of  a  citizen  at  the  Cooper  Street  Armory, 
on  the  well-established  principle  of  law,  that  where 
persons  acting  in  concert  commit  a  crime,  each  is 
responsible  for  the  act  committed  by  either  of  the 
others.  These  five  were  held  for  trial  without 
bail ;  their  names  are  a  matter  of  record  in  the 
courts,  and  I  have  no  desire  to  harrow  up  the  feel¬ 
ings  of  their  friends  by  repeating  them  here. 

31* 


366 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


‘’ll 


Taking  into  account  the  great  number  of  persons 
engaged  in  this  riot,  the  fury  and  determination 
that  seemed  at  all  points  to  pervade  their  ranks, 
the  amount  of  property  destroyed  was  compar¬ 
atively  small,  but  the  sacrifice  of  life  was  much 
more  fearful. 

Of  those  who  suffered  in  defending  life  and 
property,  and  in  the  preservation  of  the  peace, 
were  two  men  in  the  service  of  the  General  Gov¬ 
ernment,  seven  in  the  service  of  the  city,  two  or 
three  of  the  military ;  and  a  number  of  unoffend¬ 
ing  citizens  were  severely  beaten  and  otherwise 
seriously  injured,  and  one  quiet,  worthy  old  man 
was  shot  dead.  But  the  destruction  of  life  among 
the  Bio  ter  s  will  ever  remain  shrouded  in  mystery ; 
the  public  journals  subsequently  made  mention  of 
eight  that  were  killed,  but  it  is  believed  that  many 
of  the  dead  were  hurried  away  by  their  friends, 
whose  untimely  end  was  not  made  known  to  the 
public ;  and  it  is  said  by  those  who  had  good  op¬ 
portunities  to  form  an  estimate,  that  many  more 
than  is  generally  supposed  *  fell  victims  to  their 
own  imprudence  and  folly  on  that  fearful  night. 

One  instance,  which  may  serve  to  show  the 
spirit  of  the  mob,  even  before  the  military  had 
shown  them  any  resistance  at  Cooper  Street,  is 
worthy  of  note. 

A  gentleman  who  is  universally  known  in  Ward 
One,  and  who,  perhaps,  possesses  as  much  infiu- 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


367 


ence  with  a  majority  of  the  inhabitants  there  as 
any  other  one  man,  was  lying  on  a  sick-bed  at  the 
time  the  riot  commenced  in  Cooper  Street.  His 
anxiety  was  so  great  that  he  called  his  carriage 
and  hurried  there.  On  arriving  at  the  Armory  he 
was  set  upon,  his  carriage  upset,  himself  thrown 
out,  and  with  some  difficulty  he  made  his  escape 
around  the  nearest  corner. 

Had  the  authorities  known  the  precise  time  and 
place  the  attack  was  to  be  made,  they  might,  per¬ 
haps,  have  been  better  prepared  to  prevent  so 
great  a  sacrifice  of  life  ;  but  this  it  was  impossible 
to  know.  Humors  were  rife  in  the  afternoon  that 
demonstrations  were  to  be  made  at  the  Provost 
Marshal’s  head-quarters  at  East  and  at  South 
Boston,  and  at  various  other  places.  It  seemed 
necessary  to  be  prepared  to  meet  the  emergency  at 
all  points.  The  Mayor  was  early  at  the  scene  of 
disorder,  but  the  disturbance  was  so  great  that  he 
could  not  for  one  moment  be  heard,  and  was 
obliged  to  give  way  to  save  himself  from  harm. 
The  conquest  of  a  mob  is  ever  without  limit ;  the 
destruction  of  life  and  property,  fire,  pillage,  and 
carnage,  are  its  legitimate  work.  The  Conscrip¬ 
tion  Biot  in  the  city  of  New  York  is  an  example. 
Nothing  but  force,  and  that  of  the  most  powerful 
character,  can  arrest  and  stay  its  progress.  Too 
much  credit  cannot  be  awarded  to  the  Mayor  of 
our  city,  who  so  promptly  prepared  to  meet  the 


368 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


crisis,  and  to  the  Chief  of  Police  and  others  who 
planned,  and  the  men  who  executed  their  impor¬ 
tant  trusts  on  that  eventful  night.  Had  either  de¬ 
layed,  or  faltered  in  their  duties,  who  can  count 
the  cost,  —  who  can  foretell  the  consequences  ? 
They  are,  indeed,  too  fearful  for  contemplation. 

A  confidence  in  the  loyalty  and  law-abiding 
character  of  the  Boston  people  might  have  justified 
an  opinion  that  the  unprecedented  preparation  made 
the  afternoon  preceding  the  riot  was  unnecessary 
and  uncalled  for;  but  the  events  of  the  evening 
but  too  well  justified  the  fears  entertained  by  the 
most  timid. 

And  if  there  is  anything  wanting  to  show  the 
estimation  entertained  by  the  citizens  of  Boston 
towards  the  worthy  Chief  Magistrate  who  so  nobly 
stepped  forth  to  protect  their  lives  and  property, 
and  to  preserve  the  good  name  of  our  city  in  that 
trying  hour,  I  would  point  to  the  succeeding  mu¬ 
nicipal  Election,  in  which  those  very  acts  of  his  on 
that  occasion  were  made  an  issue,  and  where  on 
that  issue  the  people  rebuked  his  opponents  by 
giving  him  a  majority  of  their  suffrages,  too  over¬ 
whelming  to  be  misunderstood. 

Whether  the  Conscription  Biot  in  Boston  was 
the  result  of  a  regular  and  extensive  organization, 
reaching  far  beyond  the  limits  of  our  own  city  or 
State,  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the  Rebellion,  or 
whether  it  was  only  composed  of  a  combination  of 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


369 


men  limited  within  the  bounds  of  Boston  and  the 
suburban  towns,  or  whether  it  was  only  a  sponta¬ 
neous  outbreak,  which  is  at  any  time  liable  to 
happen  in  cdl  thickly  populated  places,  is  a  ques- 
.  tion  not  well  understood. 

Each  position  has  its  advocates,  and  neither, 
perhaps,  are  without  reasons  to  sustain  their  the- 
ory.  Without  attempting  to  offer  my  own  views 
on  the  subject,  it  may  not  be  irrelevant  to  inquire, 
Why  was  it  that  fire,  rapine,  and  murder,  were  on 
that  day  laying  desolate  the  hearths  and  homes  of  ' 
peaceable  and  unoffending  citizens  in  the  city  of 
New  York  ?  Who  were  the  fiends  in  human  form 
whose  hands  were  then  reeking  in  the  blood  of 
innocent  women  and  children,  while  the  hitherto 
strong  arm  of  the  law  was  powerless  to  save  or 
protect  ? 

And  who  is  responsible  for  these  deeds  of 
wholesale'  carnage  and  murder  ?  Have  not  the 
same  poisonous  seeds  been  strewn  broadcast 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  our  land, 
and  by  the  self-same  hand  ]  and  what  would  have 
been  the  result  in  our  own  beloved  city,  had  not 
those  turbulent  spirits  been  crushed  at  a  blow] 
The  subject  is  too  painful  for  contemplation. 

For  several  days  succeeding  the  Biot,  great  fears 
were  entertained  by  many  of  the  citizens  that  a 
concentrated  demonstration  would  be  made  at 
some  point  by  the  Bioters,  and  preparations  were 


370 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


kept  up  not  only  in  Boston,  but  also  in  many  of 
the  adjoining  towns  to  meet  the  emergency,  should 
one  arise ;  but  no  further  outbreaks  occurred, 
and  for  some  months  Boston  was  never  more  quiet 
and  orderly. 


t 


THE  DRAFT. 


Early  in  the  summer  of  1863,  much  interest 
and  no  little  excitement  was  manifest  throughout 
the  Loyal  States,  in  consequence  of  the  Conscrip¬ 
tion,  or  Militai  y  Draft,  which  our  Government 
found  it  necessary  to  resort  to  in  order  to  fill  up 
the  thinned  ranks  of  our  army. 

But  even  in  good  old  Massachusetts,  there  were 
those  who  so  far  forgot  their  duty  as  men,  and 
them  loyalty  as  citizens,  as  to  openly  denounce 
the  act  which  was  forced  upon  the  Government, 
as  unjust,  unconstitutional,  and  uncalled  for ;  thus 
lending  their  aid  and  influence  in  opposition  to  the 
measure,  and  the  means  of  sustaining  our  cause, 
and  putting  down  the  Rebellion. 

This  couise,  so  persistently  pursued  by  some  of 
our  people,  naturally  produced  much  discussion 
and  no  little  ill-feeling  among  those  whose  interests 
certainly  were,  and  whose  principles  ought  to  be 
the  same ;  and  it  is  a  matter  of  no  surprise  that  he 
who  was  so  hardy  as  to  boldly  denounce  the  Draft, 

should  be  looked  upon  with  suspicion  and  distrust 
by  all  loyal  men. 


372 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


“  Hang  the  Draft,”  said  /,  as  I  one  day  emerged 
from  my  house,  with  swollen  eyes,  flushed  face, 
and  an  empty  stomach. 

“  There  is  secession  for  you  in  good  earnest,” 
said  a  large,  portly  gentleman,  who  was  passing 
my  door  at  the  moment,  and  who  stopped  and 
gazed  me  square  in  the  face  just  as  I  had  relieved 
myself  of  the  odious  sentiment. 

He  was  a  man  apparently  fifty  years  of  age  (so 
old  as  not  to  be  mistaken  for  under  forty-five),  and 
the  contempt  got  up  in  his  countenance,  for  my 
especial  benefit,  I  must  confess  took  me  a  little 
aback. 

66 1  have  heard,”  said  he,  66  that  we  had  seces¬ 
sionists  in  our  midst,  but  little  did  I  think  to  meet 
with  so  flagrant  a  specimen  of  disloyalty  in  open 
day.  Do  you  know,”  said  he,  “  that  this  very 
Draft  of  which  you  speak  so  disgracefully,  is  what 
has  become  eminently  necessary  to  save  our  beloved 
country  from  desolation  and  ruin  ?  Do  you  know, 
sir,  that  this  measure  has  become  the  last  resort 
of  the  good  and  true  men  who  hold  the  destinies 
of  our  Government,  to  raise  troops  to  put  dowm 
this  cursed  Rebellion  ?  Do  you  know,  sir,  that  1 
(and  here  he  straightened  himself  up  to  his  full 
height)  would  sacrifice  my  life,  my  fortune,  and  my 
sacred  honor,  in  this  the  cause  of  my  country,  and 
that  he  who  is  not  with  us  is  against  us,  and  that 
you,  sir,  and  all  like  you,  who  are  not  only  traitors 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


373 


at  heart,  but  stand  here  and  boldly  proclaim  your 
disloyalty,  should  ere  now  have  been  inmates  of 
the  prison  at  Fort  Warren,  with  an  Ex-Mayor 
Blown  and  a  Marshal  Kane  ?  Indeed,  sir,  I  can 
but  hope  that  this  very  Draft  may  bring  forth  your 
own  name  as  a  conscript  in  the  cause  of  which  you 
speak  so  contemptuously.” 

Stop,  stop,  stop,  for  heaven’s  sake,  my  good 
friend!”  said  I,  imploringly.  “  Don’t,  for  pity 
sake,  annihilate  me,  and  send  me  to  endless  perdi¬ 
tion,  without  judge,  jury,  or  benefit  of  clergy;  and 
don’t,  don’t  for  mercy’s  sake,  sacrifice  your  own 
valuable  life  ;  for  you ,  as  well  as  J,  are  too  old  to  be 
drafted, .  Sacrifice  your  property,  sir,  if  you  please, 
but  be  careful  of  your  honor ,  sir,  for  that  is  an 
article  so  rare  and  valuable,  that  its  possessor 
ought  not  to  relinquish  it  without  an  equivalent. 
■But,  sir,  as  you  seem  to  take  a  deep  interest  in  my 
case,  I  presume  you  will  do  me  the  justice  to  listen 
a  moment  to  my  side  of  the  question,  and  if  you 
don’t  eventually  come  to  my  way  of  thinking,  I 
will  be  your  willing  disciple  ever  after.” 

“  Convert  me  to  disloyalty,  sir !  ”  said  he,  with  ' 
disdain.  “No,  sir,  never !  ” 

“  Hold,  hold  ”  said  I ;  “  not  too  fast ;  wait  a 
moment,  and  hear  me ;  don’t  condemn  me  without 
an  audience.  Perhaps,  sir,  I  am  not  so  disloyal  as 
you  imagine.  People  who  think  alike,  sometimes 
quarrel  by  misunderstanding  terms.  Now,  sir, 

32 


374 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


please  for  one  moment  listen  to  my  case.  You 
see,  sir,  I  live  here  in  this  house,  and  generally 
succeed  in  living  quite  comfortable.  I  have  a  nice 
little  family  of  a  good-natured  wife,  a  fine  fat  baby, 
and  an  excellent  cook,  and  we  usually  find  some¬ 
thing  wholesome  to  eat.  This  day,  sir,  I  came 
home  to  dine  rather  late,  with  a  keen  appetite  and 
in  fond  anticipation  of  masticating  a  portion  of  a 
rib  of  roast  beef.  Well,  sir,  on  arriving  home, 
imagine  my  disappointment  and  chagrin  at  finding 
babe  in  convulsions,  wife  in  tears,  —  cook  skedad¬ 
dled,  house  full  of  smoke,  and  no  dinner ;  and  all 
in  consequence  of  the  inefficiency  of  a  new  thirty- 
dollar  stove  I  had  set  up  in  the  morning,  the  flue 
of  which  persistently  refused  to  draw .  And  now, 
sir,  if  any  moral  man,  or  devoted  Christian,  can 
conscientiously  console  himself  under  such  circum¬ 
stances  without  emphatically  denouncing  that  draft , 
he  is  a  more  loyal  man  than  I  am.” 

The  portly  gentleman  turned  on  his  heel,  and 
walked  hurriedly  down  the  street. 


THOMAS  SEMMES. 


Under  the  administration  of  City  Marshal  Tu- 
key,  who  was  truly  one  of  the  smartest  executive 
officers  I  ever  knew,  the  Police  were  not  usually 
overstocked  with  information  in  relation  to  his 
intended  movements.  Shrewd  and  sly  in  his 
nature,  his  plans  were  deep  laid  and  secret.  If  he 
gloried  in  any  one  thing,  it  was  in  getting  up  a 
surprise,  which  usually  proved  a  surprise,  in  fact , 
not  only  to  some  unlucky  offender,  but  to  the 
public  also ;  and  to  his  tact  in  planning,  and  not 
less  to  the  secrecy  with  which  he  managed  his 
plans,  may  be  attributed  most  of  his  success. 

When  Marshal  Tukey  gave  an  order,  it  was 
short,  tart,  and  to  the  point;  every  man  knew  what 
it  meant,  and  no  questions  were  asked.  If  any 
officer  did  not  obey,  it  was  but  a  word  and  a  blow, 
and  the  blow  usually  took  off  the  delinquents  head . 

If  an  officer  obeyed  orders,  be  they  ever  so  reck¬ 
less  or  at  fault,  no  matter ;  the  Marshal  would  back 
him  up  to  his  utmost. 

In  the  year  1851,  the  day  Police  under  the  Mai- 


376 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


shal  numbered  about  forty  men;  we  reported  to 
him  at  his  office  at  eight  o’clock  a.  m.  and  two 
o’clock  p.  m.  ;  from  thence  we  separated  to  cover 
our  respective  beats  throughout  the  city. 

When  we  assembled  at  the  Office,  little  Johnny 
Crocker,  the  clerk,  called  over  our  names,  and  read 
to  us  any  orders  or  notices  there  might  be.  We 
did  not  usually  see  the  Marshal,  who  was  in  an 
adjoining  office,  unless  we  had  a  question  to  ask, 
or  he  a  special  order  to  give. 

When  he  had  something  to  say  to  us,  you  could 
see  his  office-door  open  slowly  just  before  Crocker 
had  finished  the  call,  and  then  that  peculiar  Roman 
nose  and  keen  black  eye  of  the  Marshal’s  would 
make  its  appearance.  Then  came  the  order,  short 
and  quick,  and  he  was  gone,  —  and  so  were  we  too , 
very  shortly.  There  are  yet  a  few  who  will  recol¬ 
lect  this  picture,  but  very  few  of  that  forty  are 
Policemen  now. 

One  morning  in  the  month  of  March  this  year, 
the  Marshal  made  his  appearance  at  the  door,  and 
in  a  low  voice  gave  the  following  order:  “  Officers 
north  of  City  Hall ,  will  pass  the  north  end  of  the  Court 
House  every  hour  while  on  duty  ;  officers  south ,  will 
pass  through  School  Street  same ;  no  questions  asked 
or  answered ;  ”  —  and  the  Police  dispersed.  The 
nearest  part  of  my  beat  was  a  mile  from  the  Court 
House,  and  the  twelve  hours  which  we  were  on 
duty  made  me  twenty-four  miles  travel.  The 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


reader  can  judge  how  much  time  I  spent  on  the 
beat,  for  if  I  had  been  within  reach  of  a  “  crock  of 
gold,”  I  should  have  left  it  to  conform  to  the  order. 
Day  after  day  I  travelled  the  ground  over  till  I 
was  actually  ashamed  to  be  seen,  and  I  went  every 
different  route  that  was  open  till  I  felt  that  I  had 
worn  them  all  out.  I  often  met  and  passed  my 
brother  officers,  who  were  on  the  same  mysterious 
errand,  and  I  could  read  in  their  eye  what  seemed 
to  say,  what  the  d — 1  does  all  this  mean ;  but  we 
all  remembered  the  order,  “  no  questions  asked  or 
answered,”  so  we  passed  each  other  in  silence. 

Some  two  weeks  passed  away  without  any  coun¬ 
termand,  and  we  began  to  think  this  was  to  be 
regular  duty,  when  one  morning  (it  was  the  third 
day  of  April),  I  came  by  the  north  end  of  the 
Court  House,  as  usual,  where  I  was  met  by  a  smart, 
good-natured  little  fellow,  who  belonged  to  the 
Office,  and  who  the  Marshal  familiarly  called  Es¬ 
quire.  He  told  me  to  go  quietly  to  the  Office,  at 
which  place  the  whole  force  congregated  within 
the  hour,  and  where  the  long  pent-up  secret  was 
soon  disclosed. 

Thomas  Semmes,  a  colored  man,  was  in  custody 
at  the  Court  House,  and  was  to  be  tried  on  charge 
of  being  a  fugitive  slave,  belonging  to  a  Mr.  Potter, 
in  Savannah,  Georgia. 

This  was  a  new  order  of  things  to  us,  and 
although  the  whole  military  force  was  at  the  com- 

32* 


378 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


mand  of  the  Government,  it  was  deemed  expedient 
to  substitute  the  Police  for  guarding  the  prisoner 
and  preserving  the  peace. 

Semmes  had  been  arrested  by  two  officers  of  our 

department  the  night  previous  in  Cooper  Street, 

and  had  made  rather  careless  use  of  a  very  ugly 

looking  knife  which  he  carried,  and  he  gave  one 

of  the  officers  rather  an  ugly  looking  mark  in  the 

hip ;  but  he  was  in  safe  quarters  now.  Semmes 

was  about  twenty-two  years  old,  medium  size,  and 

black  as  ebony.  His  master  had  taught  him  the 

brickmaker’s  trade,  and  had  (it  was  said)  made 

provisions  for  him  to  purchase  his  freedom,  which 

his  brother  had  already  done,  and  which  he  could 

do  in  about  two  years ;  but,  like  some  men  of 

different  color,  Tom  was  reckless,  and  took  to 

* 

gaming  and  strong  drink,  and  besides,  he  had  an 
idea  that  he  had  as  good  a  right  to  himself  as  any¬ 
body,  and  so  ran  away,  came  to  Boston,  and  took 
up  quarters  in  Richmond  Street. 

Here  Tom  took  up  his  old  trade  of  gambling 
and  drinking,  got  into  a  quarrel  with  another 
darkie  about  a  white  woman,  who  gave  information 
to  his  master,  and  poor  Tom  got  arrested.  While 
in  charge  of  the  officers  during  trial,  which  lasted 
nine  days,  he  proved  himself  worthy  the  reputation 
he  had  gained  in  Richmond  Street,  for  he  could 
smoke  and  drink  his  keepers  blind  drunk  (of 
course,  I  do  not  mean  to  say  he  did  that) ;  but  it 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


379 


was  hinted  that  Tom  had  plenty  of  small  bits  of 
change,  which  he  obtained  by  some  process  with 
cards,  and  one  day  I  saw  him  take  three  dollars  on 
a  bet  that  he  could  take  a  man’s  vest  off  from 
under  the  coat  and  leave  the  coat  on.  However, 
we  green  hands  had  little  chance  to  lose  our  money 
with  him,  as  we  were  posted  outside.  I,  for  one, 
stood  on  a  flat  rock  at  the  north  end  of  the  Court 
House  twelve  hours  a  day,  and  on  the  same  sub¬ 
stance  inside  six  hours  a  night,  each  twenty-four 
hours,  and  slept  on  the  soft  side  of  a  pine  board 
the  other  six,  for  nine  days.  I  wished  the  black 
rascal  had  stayed  at  home,  or  kept  dark  in  Itichmond 
Street ;  and  I  have  since  sometimes  wished  that 
some  fellows  who  have  obtained  Police  appoint¬ 
ments  on  account  of  ill  health  or  laziness ,  had  the 
chance  I  then  enjoyed. 

Well,  after  it  became  pretty  certain  that  Semmes 
was  to  be  sent  back,  the  Police  began  to  drill  for 
the  expected  occasion.  As  good  luck  would  have 
it,  wre  had  one  man  in  the  Department  who  “  un¬ 
derstood  military.”  He  was  a  tall,  athletic  fellow, 
familiarly  known  as  “  Captain  Sam,”  and  when 
standing  at  the  head  of  his  Battalion  of  Police 
braves ,  with  his  hat  a  little  on  one  side,  a  big  quid 
in  his  jaws,  “  eyes  right ;  ”  thunder,  was  n’t  he  the 
beau  ideal  of  bravery.  Then  to  make  the  thing 
more  imposing,  each  officer  was  furnished  with  a 
mariner’s  cutlass,  and  after  we  had  taken  a  march 


380 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


through  Pemberton  Square,  and  a  dog  trot  three 
times  around  the  Court  House,  our  discipline  was 
considered  perfect,  and  we  were  ready  for  the  fray. 

At  length  all  necessary  arrangements  were  com¬ 
plete,  and  on  the  twelfth  day  of  April,  about  four 
o’clock  in  the  morning,  Semmes,  in  the  centre  of  a 
hollow  square  of  armed  Police,  hailed  by  shouts 
from  numerous  boys,  and  groans  from  various 
other  sources,  was  marched  unmolested  down  State 
Street  to  the  foot  of  Long  Wharf,  where  he  em¬ 
barked  on  board  of  the  Schooner  Acron,  Captain 
Coombs,  for  his  native  home  in  Savannah. 

The  Police,  like  true  citizen  soldiers,  surren¬ 
dered  up  the  sword  —  for  the  rattan ,  and  quietly 
returned  to  duty  on  their  beats,  wondering,  in  the 
innocence  of  their  hearts,  how  one  man  could  own 
another . 


A  KID  GAME. 


Those  who  made  a  practice  of  visiting  our  crim¬ 
inal  courts  for  several  years  previous  to  the  year 
1857,  will  well  recollect  a  slender-formed,  thin¬ 
faced,  gray-haired  man  who  was  in  almost  daily 
attendance  about  the  prisoners’  dock,  apparently 
quite  busy  in  endeavoring  to  aid  and  assist  some 
poor  unfortunate  man,  or  woman  whose  misfor¬ 
tunes  or  mistakes  had  led  them  into  the  meshes  of 

✓ 

the  law. 

Indeed,  so  common  were  this  gentleman’s  visits 
in  the  courts,  that  he  came  to  be  considered  almost 
one  of  the  fixtures  ;  and  as  the  higher  law  had  set 
the  example  of  providing  a  scapegoat  for  a  cer¬ 
tain  class  of  offenders,  our  courts  were  sometimes 
thought  inclined  to  imitate  that  precedent  by  admit¬ 
ting  criminals  to  bail,  occasionally  taking  this  gen¬ 
tleman  as  surety  for  their  reappearance.  It  was 
sometimes  called  straw  bail. 

This  course  was  pursued  by  our  friend,  till  at 
length  he  became  universally  known  as  a  philan¬ 
thropist,  and  generous  individuals  frequently  fur- 


382 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


nished  him  with  means  wherewith  to  aid  the  erring 
and  unfortunate,  and  also  placed  at  his  disposal  a 
ine  horse  and  chaise  for  his  accommodation  on 
numerous  errands  about  the  city  and  vicinity, 
Who  that  does  not  remember  to  have  seen  his 
sleek  bay  horse  and  silver-mounted  chaise  and 
harness,  standing  by  the  curbstone  in  front  of  the 
dwelling  of  some  unfortunate  brother  or  sister, 
while  he  was  inside  on  some  errand  of  business  or 
mercy  ] 

Some  evil-disposed  persons  might  have  said  that 
his  visits  were  sometimes  prolonged  to  an  unneces¬ 
sary  length,  and  others  that  he  bailed  out  the 
victims  of  dissipation  and  licentiousness,  for  a  con¬ 
sideration  ;  but  what  man  ever  lived  whose  good 
acts  and  kind  motives  were  not  misconstrued  or 
misrepresented  ]  However,  it  was  all  the  same  to 
him,  and,  happen  what  would,  he  still  pursued  the 
even  tenor  of  his  way. 

Our  friend  must  have  seen  much  of  the  shady 

- 

side  of  life,  and  he  was  a  pretty  close  observer  of 
human  nature.  He  also  had  a  little  brass  in  his 
composition,  and  was  one  of  the  coolest  men  under 
adverse  circumstances  in  court  or  out  of  it,  that  I 
ever  saw. 

I  recollect  a  circumstance  that  seemed  to  me  a 
test  of  this  characteristic  of  the  man*. 

I  was  one  day  called,  in  my  official  capacity,  to  go 
into  a  house  not  particularly  noted  for  respectabil- 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS.  383 

ity,  where  I  found  my  friend  the  worthy  philanthro¬ 
pist,  most  patiently  submitting  to  the  most  intermin¬ 
able  kissing  by  one  of  the  frail  sisters,  that  my  eyes 
ever  beheld ;  and  that,  too,  with  the  fortitude  of  a 
martyr.  I  remained  silent  till  the  scene  was  ended, 
and  then  ventured  to  inquire  of  him  if  he  w^as  aware 
how  disgracefully  he  had  been  insulted.  He  looked 
up  very  calmly,  it  being  the  first,  he  was  aware  of 
my  presence,  and  meekly  replied,  44  Certainly  I  am  ; 
but  it  did  not  hurt  me.”  And,  upon  my  soul,  I 
could  not  see  that  it  <jid.  It  was  his  way ;  and 
although  he  might  sometimes  have  been  imprudent 
in  view  of  jealous  eyes,  yet  I  really  think  he  did 
some  good,  and  I  never  knew  of  his  doing  any 
hurt.  He  has  gone  to  his  long  home  some  years 
since,  and  I  really  wish  there  were  no  worse  men 
than  he. 

When  he  was  alive,  he  used  to  tell  me  some 
queer  stories  of  what  he  had  seen  and  heard,  and 
the  following  is  one  which  I  shall  denominate  a 
44  kid  game,”  for  the  reason  that  a  certain  class  of 
professional  gentlemen  call  a  babe  a  kid.  The  trans¬ 
action.  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  took  place  but 
a  short  time  before  his  death. 

It  so  happened  that  a  man  and  wife  who  were  re¬ 
siding  in  Boston,  and  who  at  the  time  were  in  com¬ 
fortable  circumstances,  were  childless.  This,  to 
them,  was  a  matter  of  much  regret,  especially  on 
the  part  of  the  husband  ;  and  in  course  of  time  his 


384 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


dissatisfaction  became  so  great,  tbat  the  spouse  was 
constrained  to  put  her  woman’s  wits  to  work  to 
remedy  the  evil ;  and  in  her  extremity  she  decided 
to  call  in  the  aid  of  our  philanthropist,  whose  in¬ 
genuity  and  shrewdness  was  a  match  for  almost  any 
emergency. 

Accordingly  plans  were  concocted,  and  in  the 
course  of  a  few  months  preparations  were  made  in 
the  aforesaid  family  for  a  coming  event.  At  length 
the  plan  was  fully  matured,  and  one  day  when  the 
husband  chanced  to  be  absent,  the  lady  was  taken 
conveniently  ill ;  a  physician  (in  the  secret)  was  sent 
for,  but  before  he  arrived  a  covered  carriage  drove 
up  to  the  door  of  the  sick  lady,  and  a  person  closely 
enveloped  in  a  cloak  alighted  and  entered  the  house, 
but  immediately  returned,  reentered  the  carriage, 
and  hurried  away.  The  physician  soon  came,  ap¬ 
parently  attended  to  his  professional  duties,  and  all 
things  progressed  favorably. 

When  the  husband  came  home  at  night,  he  found 
himself  not  only  a  husband,  but  the  father  (as  he 
believed)  of  a  most  beautiful  little  cherub,  44  the  very 
picture  of  its  papa”  as  all  the  attendants  said. 

Of  course  the  event  was  not  altogether  unex¬ 
pected,  and  the  father  was  one  of  the  happiest  of 
men ;  and  if  to  lend  a  hand  in  making  a  fellow- 
mortal  most  innocently  happy  is  worthy  of  praise, 
no  doubt  in  this  case  our  philanthropist  is  entitled 
to  his  full  share.  Nor  was  this  all ;  a  certain  un- 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


385 


married,  unfortunate  young  lady  of  highly  respect¬ 
able  connections,  and  heretofore  unblemished  char¬ 
acter,  was  relieved  of  a  serious  responsibility  not 
conveniently  accounted  or  provided  for,  and  our 
friend  had  added  new  laurels  to  his  already  deeply 
bedecked  brow. 

The  only  difficulty  that  seemed  to  arise  in  the 
whole  transaction,  was  the  want  of  the  fount  of  life 
for  the  little  stranger ;  but  as  that  deficiency  was 
nothing  uncommon,  and  was  readily  provided  for 
by  artificial  means,  no  serious  difficulty  ensued. 

This  was  the  happy  terminus  in  the  matter,  so 
far  as  our  friend  was  concerned ;  he  did  not  live  to 
witness  the  sequel,  and  little  did  he  then  know  of 
the  true  character  of  the  party  he  had  so  ingeniously 
befriended. 

The  lady  whom  he  had  so  successfully  aided  might 

have  had  quite  a  reasonable  excuse  for  the  little 

) 

deception  practised  upon  her  liege  lord ;  but  if  so, 
this  transgression  only  paved  the  way  for  a  higher 
and  a  bolder  stroke. 

It  seems  that  the  would-be  mother,  whose  moral 
principles  proved  not  to  be  of  the  highest  order, 
when  the  child,  which  was  a  boy,  was  but  a  few 
weeks  old,  concocted  a  plan  for  a  further  family 
benefit.  Accordingly  a  secret  message  was  trans¬ 
mitted  to  a  certain  professional  gentleman  in  a  neigh¬ 
boring  town,  requesting  an  interview  without  delay. 
That  gentleman,  as  it  proved,  being  rather  an  inti- 

33 


386 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


mate  acquaintance,  immediately  obeyed  the  sum¬ 
mons  ;  but  the  result  of  the  interview  is  not  on  the 
records ;  but  rumor  had  it  that  a  plea  of  poverty, 
and  an  additional  responsibility  to  provide  for,  to¬ 
gether  with  a  threat  of  exposure,  brought  out  a 
handsome  accommodation  of  about  fifteen  hundred 
dollars,  which  made  matters  satisfactory. 

As  time  rolled  on,  the  babe  became  a  sprightly 
child ;  but  the  wife,  who  had  taken  so  exclusive  a 
part  in  the  increase  of  the  family,  eventually  took 
to  her  cups,  to  which  the  husband  also  was  some¬ 
what  addicted,  which  did  not  add  to  the  prosperity 
or  the  peace  of  the  family. 

One  day  as  she  was  attempting  to  correct  the 
child,  who  was  now  large  enough  to  wear  panta¬ 
lets,  the  husband  interfered ;  in  the  melee  the  wife 
became  highly  exasperated,  and  in  her  passion  she 
boldly  declared  to  the  husband  that  in  this  child,  the 
idol  of  his  heart,  not  one  drop  of  blood  circulating 
in  its  veins  ever  belonged  to  him.  Murder  will 
out,  although  the  whole  truth  was  not  out  yet. 
The  husband  was  thunderstruck ;  yet  little  did  he 
then  think,  that  the  wife  was  no  nearer  akin  than 
himself. 

As  may  be  readily  supposed* from  this  day  hence¬ 
forth,  the  prospects  of  the  family  did  not  improve, 
the  wife  persistingly  declaring  to  the  husband  that 
the  professional  gentleman  was  the  real  father  of 
the  boy. 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


387 


The  subsequent  condition  of  the  family,  and  the 
ill  -usage  of  the  child,  coming  to  the  knowledge  of 
a  person  who  knew  the  real  mother,  was  the  cause 
of  an  afterpiece  in  the  drama. 

It  appears  that  the  mother  of  the  child,  who,  as 
has  before  been  stated,  was  of  highly  respectable 
family,  and  without  a  blemish  of  character  herself 
except  this  unfortunate  affair,  had  emigrated  to  the 
far  West,  and  there  became  acquainted  with  and 
married  a  wealthy  young  farmer,  after  having  in¬ 
formed  him  of  the  true  state  of  the  case  in  relation 
to  this  child,  as  far  as  she  knew ;  and  the  marriage, 
so  far  as  is  known,  was  a  happy  one. 

But  a  message  from  a  lady  of  intimate  acquaint¬ 
ance  in  Boston,  setting  forth  the  condition  of  the 
child,  and  that  there  was  a  probability  that  it  must 
be  sent  to  the  almshouse,  set  the  mother’s  heart  on 
fire :  and,  as  she  was  otherwise  childless,  with  the 
consent  of  her  husband  she  was  soon  on  her  way  to 
Boston. 

On  arriving  in  the  city,  with  the  aid  of  her 
friend,  the  mother  sought  out  the  parents  by  adop¬ 
tion  ;  but  on  learning  her  errand,  they  thought 
they  saw  another  opening  to  make  money,  and 
laid  their  plans  accordingly.  Although  they  had 
threatened  the  friend  of  the  mother  to  turn  the 
child  over  to  the  overseer  of  the  poor,  if  the  real 
mother  did  not  come  and  take  him  away,  now  they 
could  not  think  of  parting  with  the  little  fellow 


388 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


without  the  payment  of  a  large  sum.  The  mother 
had  not  come  prepared  for  this,  but  she  was  willing 
to  part  with  anything,  yes,  everything  she  had. 
An  agreement  was  finally  made  that  the  child 
should  be  given  up  to  the  mother,  and  she  in 
return  was  to  pay  all  the  money  she  could  raise, 
together  with  all  of  her  jewelry,  a  gold  watch,  and 
some  other  articles  of  wearing  apparel,  everything 
that  she  could  possibly  spare.  She  was  to  be  at 

the  house  where  the  child  was,  at  an  early  hour 

✓ 

in  the  evening,  the  woman  pretending  that  her 
husband  was  not  at  home,  and  that  the  bargain 
must  not  be  known  to  him  till  after  it  was  com¬ 
pleted  and  the  exchange  made. 

At  the  time  appointed  the  mother  repaired  to 
the  house,  with  all  the  valuables  she  could  here 
command,  to  give  in  exchange  for  her  child.  The 
woman  received  the  consideration,  and  stooped  to 
kiss  her  little  protege  as  he  was  about  to  depart, 
when  she  gave  a  loud  shriek.  The  husband  im¬ 
mediately  rushed  into  the  room,  seized  both  the 
child  and  the  property,  and  thrust  the  frightened 
mother  into  the  street. 

In  her  distress  she  came  to  the  police.  An 
investigation  led  to  the  arrest  and  detention  of  the 
guilty  parties,  and  a  subsequent  examination  before 
a  legal  tribunal.  After  a  careful  examination,  the 
mother  was  awarded  the  custody  of  her  child,  and 
with  apparently  a  light  heart  departed  with  him  for 
her  home  in  the  West. 


NEW  GITYHALL 


NEW  CITY  HALL.  — A  DREAM. 


For  the  last  half  century  the  government  of  the 
town  and  city  of  Boston  have  made  an  occasional 
effort  to  build  a  City  Hall,  for  the  want  of  which 
officials  have  been  accommodated  first  at  Faneuil 
Hall,  next  at  the  old  Town  House ,  and  then  at  the 
Old  Court  House,  and  various  hired  offices  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Court  Square. 

At  length,  in  the  summer  of  1862,  the  Hon. 

Joseph  M.  Wightman  being  Mayor,  with  his  accus- 

✓ 

tomed  energy  took  the  matter  in  hand,  and  the 
subject-matter  of  building  a  new  Hall  was  fully 
investigated.  It  was  said  a  New  Hall,  of  sufficient 
magnitude  to  accommodate  all  the  city  officials, 
could  be  built  for  one  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
dollars,  the  interest  of  which  would  amount  to  a 
less  sum  than  that  now  paid  for  outside  office  hire, 
and  a  vote  passed  both  branches  of  the  City  Gov¬ 
ernment  to  build .  Under  the  direction  of  an  ap¬ 
propriate  committee,  plans  and  specifications  were 
drawn,  contracts  entered  into,  and  on  the  morning 
of  the  twenty-ninth  of  September,  -  ground  was 

33* 


390 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


broken  directly  under  the  office  window  of  the 
writer. 

The  New  Hall  is  rectangular  in  form,  one 
hundred  and  thirty-eight  feet  long  on  the  south 
and  north  facades,  and  ninety  feet  wide  on  the  east 
and  west  facades  respectively,  having  a  central 
projection  on  the  south  fifty-one  and  one  half  feet 
in  length,  and  fourteen  and  one  half  feet  from 
the  wings  on  a  line  of  the  facades  ;  this  brings 
the  front  up  to  within  seven  feet  of  the  pedestal 
on  which  stands  the  life-size  bronze  .figure  of  the 
venerated  Franklin. 

The  Hall  is  four  stories  high  on  School  Street, 
and  five  on  Court  Square,  with  a  French  roof, 
or  Mansard  story,  the  height  of  the  stories  being 
from  eleven  to  fourteen  and  one  half  feet  high, 
the  ceiling  to  the  common  council  chamber  carried 
up  in  the  centre  to  the  height  of  twenty-three 
and  one  fourth  feet.  An  attic  story  of  square 
form  covers  the  centre  projection,  forty- three  feet 
square  and  fourteen  and  one  half  feet  high,  and 
on  this  attic  rises  a  dome  thirty-eight  feet  from 
the  top  of  the  mosaic  cornice  of  the  building. 

The  exterior  walls  are  of  granite,  and  lined 
up  with  brick  work,  and  the  dome  iron  work 
throughout.  (Such  was  the  plan  of  the  build¬ 
ing,  and  it  was  said  it  would  be  completed 
during  the  year  1863  ;  but  men  are  mortal,  and  ’tis 
human  to  err.) 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


391 


At  one  time  a  religious  society  in  a  country 
village  desired  to  build  a  new  meeting-house,  the 
old  one  having  become  dilapidated.  After  mature 
deliberation,  the  society,  at  a  meeting  called  for  the 

purpose,  adopted  the  following  resolutions  :  — 

•  • 

“  First .  Resolved ,  That  we  will  build  a  new 
house. 

“  Second.  Resolved,  That  we  will  build  the  new 
house  on  the  site  of  the  old  one. 

“  Third .  Resolved ,  That  we  will  use  the  mate¬ 
rial  of  the  old  house  in  building  the  new  one. 

“  Fourth.  Resolved ,  That  we  will  occupy  the 

old  house  till  the  new  one  is  completed.” 

The  City  Hall  Committee  virtually  followed  the 
rules  above  in  the  first  and  second  resolutions,  and 
the  third  also,  as  far  as  the  material  would  go. 
But  they  furnished  most  excellent  quarters  for  the 
removed  City  Officials  at  Mechanics  Hall,  with 
few  exceptions,  and  these  might  as  well  have  re¬ 
mained  under  the  Fourth  Resolve  of  the  meeting¬ 
house  committee. 

I  have  said  that  the  workmen  broke  ground 
September  29.  The  genteel  iron  fence  in  front  of 
the  Old  Hall,  next  School  Street,  and  the  flowers 
and  shrubbery  it  inclosed,  disappeared  in  a  few 
hours,  and  the  whole  beautiful  little  square  and 


392 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


garden  plat  were  soon  one  heap  of  rocks,  broken 
bricks,  mud,  and  dirt. 

During  the  progress  of  the  excavation,  many 
things  to  remind  one  of  other  days  were  brought 
to  light ;  and  as  the  laborers  continued  their  work, 
old  wells,  water  cisterns,  cellar  walls,  chimney 
foundations,  and  other  relics  of  antiquity  came  in 
view. 

Just  in  front  of  the  south  entrance  of  the  east 
wing  of  the  Old  Hall  appeared  a  deep  well, 
which  was  safely  covered  over,  for  the  protection 
of  the  tens  of  thousands  who  yearly  passed  over  it. 
When  or  by  whom  it  was  built,  no  one  seems  to 
know.  At  the  southeast  corner,  near  Niles’  Block, 
was  an  old  cistern  some  fourteen  feet  deep,  appar¬ 
ently  built  of  brick,  the  mason  work  of  which 
crumbled  to  dust  on  being  exposed  to  air.  On  the 
opposite  corner  was  another,  not  so  deep  or  old  as 
the  first.  Here  was  the  foundation  of  an  old  engine 
house,  and  there  of  what  was  once  Barristers’ 
Block.  On  the  western  side,  in  an  embankment, 
was  seen  the  projecting  edges  of  an  innumer¬ 
able  number  of  stones ;  they  were  the  outside  walls 
of  the  dwellings  of  the  dead,  who  lived  two  hundred 
years  ago. 

A  large  sidewalk  committee  were  present  daily 
to  offer  their  remarks  and  suggestions  free  of 
charge,  and  to  see  that  all  things  were  properly 
done.  One  day  I  noticed  a  venerable-looking  old 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


393 


gentleman  standing  near  my  window,  with  his 
ardent  gaze  fixed  intently  on  a  point  further 
towards  School  Street. 

“  There,”  said  he,  with  an  energy  much  beyond 
his  years,  “  on  that  spot  stood  my  old  schoolhouse, 
and  there  I  went  to  school,  seventy-two  years  ago ; 
and  just  over  there,  it  is  said,  stood  the  first  Boston 
schoolhouse ,  where  Philemon  Pormort  taught  the 
young  Boston  idea  how  to  shoot,  two  hundred  and 
twenty-eight  years  ago.” 

Up  to  Thanksgiving  Day,  which  was  on  the  27th 
of  November,  the  excavations  were  continued  as 
far  as  practicable,  and  the  foundation,  preparatory 
to  placing  the  corner-stone,  which  was  to  be  laid  on 
Forefathers’  Day,  had  progressed  without  cessation 
or  accident,  and  in  a  manner  that  seemed  intended 
to  bid  defiance  to  the  hand  of  Time. 

On  the  afternoon  of  Thanksgiving  Day,  business 
was  dull,  and  being  alone  in  the  office,  I  seated 
myself  in  a  chair,  and  placing  my  feet  on  the 
window-sill,  where  I  could  have  a  good  view  of 
the  spot  which  has  so  long  been  of  so  milch  inter¬ 
est  to  every  Bostonian,  I  prepared  myself  to  enjoy 
a  little  meditation. 

“  Mr.  Officer,”  said  a  voice  at  my  elbow. 

Supposing  I  was  alone,  I  turned  suddenly  in  the 
direction  from  whence  the  voice  came,  and  to  my 
great  astonishment  beheld  at  my  side  the  figure  of 
a  most  venerable  personage,  with  his  deep,  dark, 


394 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


sunken  eyes  fixed  intently  on  me.  He  was  of 
medium  stature,  and  his  snow-white  beard  fell 
gracefully  on  his  breast.  His  dress  was  neat,  but 
very  ancient,  such  as  I  had  never  seen.  His  coun¬ 
tenance  was  grave,  and  unearthly  in  expression, 
and  although  I  sat  paralyzed  beneath  his  look,  yet 
the  sensation  was  not  painful. 

44  Mr.  Officer,”  said  he,  with  a  familiarity  that 
puzzled  me,  44  why  sittest  thou  here,  gazing  out 
upon  the  ruins  before  thee,  as  though  it  were  sacri¬ 
lege  to  remove  these  beautiful  handiworks  of  olden 
time  ]  Knowest  thou  not  that  change  is  engraven 

i 

on  all  the  works  of  earth  ]  Knowest  thou  not  that 
these  beautiful  structures,  about  being  removed, 
were  built  upon  the  ruins  of  other  structures,  per¬ 
haps  as  beautiful,  ornamental,  and  useful  as  them¬ 
selves,  and  that  they  in  turn  were  reared  upon  the 
ruins  of  still  others  of  an  earlier  date,  each  in  turn 
being  the  pride  and  glory  of  their  age]  Seest 
thou  not  these  new  foundations  springing  up  on 
these  ruins  of  ruins,  to  make  room  for  which  even 
the  venerated  form  of  him  who  tamed  the  storm 
and  made  the  lightning  of  heaven  subservient  to 
his  will  is  set  aside,  and  wise  men  of  the  age  may 
yet  wrangle  where  his  pedestal  shall  rest  ]  Hath 
it  not  been  so  in  all  ages?  And  is  it  not  so 
in  the  moral,  religious,  and  political,  as  well  as  the 
material  world] 

44  Am  I  not  the  spirit  of  Philemon  Pormort,  the 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


395 


first  Boston  schoolmaster,  who  dwelt  and  taught  on 
this  consecrated  ground  more  than  two  hundred 
years  ago,  and  have  I  not  long  witnessed  the 
doings  of  men  ?  Blast  thou  not  read  how  that 
those  who  entrusted  me  with  the  instruction  of 
their  children  one  day ,  banished  me  from  my  home 
the  next ,  because  I  claimed  justice  for  my  friend  the 
good  Mr.  Wheelwright,  who  could  not  embrace  all 
the  superstitions  of  his  townsmen  ? 

“  Hast  thou  not  read  how  that  the  people  of  Bos¬ 
ton,  in  my  day,  tied  men  and  women  to  the  cart-tail, 
and  whipped  them  through  the  town  on  account 
of  their  belief?  And  how  they  hanged  their 
fellow-men  on  the  limbs  of  trees  on  Boston 
Common,  and  when  dead  cast  their  naked  bodies 
into  the  Frog  Pond ,  to  become  food  for  dogs  and 
vultures,  because  they  were  Quakers  ?  Such  were 
the  men  who  built  themselves  on  the  ruined  hopes 
and  fortunes  of  Philemon  Pormort.” 

Seeing  I  was  about  to  attempt  a  reply,  he  slowly 
raised  his  withered  finger,  and  continued :  — 

“  Mr.  Officer,  art  not  thou  in  thy  profession  a 
servant  of  servants,  and  is  not  thy  head  ever  subject 
to  the  whim  or  caprice  of  a  master?  Then  let 
energy  with  prudence  guide  thee  in  duty, — but 
let  thy  tongue  be  silent.” 

At  this  moment  most  unearthly  sounds  greeted 
my  ear,  and  darkness  seemed  inclosing  the  land ; 


cannon  were  booming,  —  drums  beating,  —  bells 


396 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


tolling,  —  strange  lights  were  flickering  hither  and 
thither,  and  the  elements  even  seemed  to  join  in 
one  general  commotion ;  but  Philemon  Pormort 
stood  unmoved.  At  length  in  a  calm,  prophetic 
voice,  he  said :  — 

“  Mr.  Officer,  hearest  thou  not  this  din  of  ap¬ 
proaching  contention'?  Knowest  thou  not  that  the 
hand  of  man  is  against  his  brother  ?  Sir,  a  crisis 
is  approaching,  and  fearful  events  are  in  the  future, 
—  but  the  home  of  Philemon  Pormort  is  with  the 
just ;  ”  and  he  vanished  from  my  sight. 

In  my  eagerness  to  catch  his  last  words,  I  sprang 
from  my  chair  but  to  realize  that  I  had  been 
dreaming. 


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LITTLE  RAGGED  NELL. 


When  on  duty  at  the  North  End,  I  knew  a 
bright-eyed,  barefooted,  ragged  little  orphan  girl, 
who  lived  with  some  people  in  an  alley-way  near 
the  Old  Cockerel  Church,  whom  we  used  to  call 
Little  Ragged  Nell.  Her  pitiable  story  is  told  in 
the  following  lines  ;  would  to  Heaven  it  was  a 
solitary  case. 


AdOWN  the  narrow  alley-way, 

Where  sun  doth  never  shine, 

Where  poverty  is  doomed  to  dwell, 

And  babes  grow  up  in  crime  ; 

Where  drunken  mothers,  wantons,  thieves, 
These  dens  of  darkness  swell ; 

And  where,  in  sorrow  and  in  tears, 

Lives  little  ragged  Nell. . 


No  father,  mother,  kin,  or  friend  ; 

Not  one  that  Nellie  knows, 

Will  speak  a  word,  or  lend  a  hand, 

To  stay  the  outcast’s  blows. 

The  homeless  children,  weak  and  lone, 
To  shame  and  crime  they  sell ; 

When  buds  the  flower,  the  buyers  come 
For  little  ragged  Nell. 


398 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


Fair  jewels,  soon,  and  gaudy  silk, 

Will  deck  fair  Nellie’s  form  ; 

In  gilded  halls  and  mazy  dance, 

She  mingles  with  the  throng. 

Where  vice,  enshrined  in  mellow  light. 
Tempting  the  young  and  fair, 
Bewitching  cheat  —  heartless  deceit , 
Wooing  but  to  ensnare. 

Near  by  this  narrow  alley-way, 

Where  little  Nell  was  born, 

A  church-spire  rears  in  proud  display ; 

And  on  each  Sabbath  morn, 

The  rich  meet  here  to  worship  God, 

Who  “  doeth  all  things  well ;  ” 

But  no  one  feels,  or  cares,  to  pray 
For  little  ragged  Nell. 

s 

f 

Oh,  would  that  Christians  could  but  learn 
To  labor,  well  as  pray, 

That  kindness  teaches  to  return 
Back  from  the  sinful  way. 

Oh,  if  our  preachers  all  would  teach 
The  people  how  to  live  ; 

And  to  the  vile  and  suffering  preach, 

And  words  of  comfort  give, 

Then  might  the  earth  see  less  of  strife  ; 

And  dens,  where  sorrow  dwells, 

Be  filled  with  joy,  and  hope,  and  life, 

And  happy  little  Nells. 


MY  FATHER’S  LIKENESS. 


Oh,  that  those  lips  had  language ; 

Then  would  my  longing  ear 
The  soothing  tones  of  purest  love 
And  fond  affection  hear. 

Then  would  a  whispered  blessing 
Rest  on  my  soul  like  dew ; 

And  tender  words  of  sympathy 
Breathe  low,  and  soft,  and  true. 

In  vain  ;  those  lips  are  silent ; 

But  in  those  thoughtful  eyes, 

So  meekly  on  me  beaming, 

What  hidden  treasure  lies. 
Father,  these  looks  are  bringing 
Visions  of  days  long  past ; 

And  sad,  yet  pleasing  memories 
About  my  soul  are  cast. 

Thoughts  of  my  own  beloved  home 
Of  friends  that  dwelt  with  thee, 
Those  dear  familiar  faces, 

With  smiles  to  welcome  me ; 


400 


POLICE  RECOLLECTIONS. 


Though  years  of  care  and  sorrow, 
Have  vanished  in  the  past,  — 
Yet  still,  methinks  I  see  them  now, 
As  when  I  saw  them  last. 

Dear  father,  thou  art  now  at  rest : 

Thy  spirit  wanders  free  ; 

Thy  memory  be  a  living  light, 

A  guiding  star  to  me. 


I  kissed  that  lovely  brow  in  death, 
Cold  as  the  winter’s  clay, 

Ere  the  murmur  of  the  parting  breath 
Passed  from  the  lips  away ; 

And  that  bright,  golden  curl  I  shred 
From  the  bright  tresses  of  the  dead. 


That  little  curl !  my  hand  had  brushed 
Its  ruffled  gloss  full  oft, 


As  the  sweet  prattler’s  cries  I  hushed 


With  carol  low  and  soft ; 

And,  as  he  sank  to  silent  rest, 

That  curl  lay  gleaming  on  my  breast. 


Dear  child,  it  was  no  lightsome  thing 
To  watch  thy  spirit’s  flight, 


To  mark  its  struggling  usherin 


To  heaven’s  own  world  of  light. 

We  bowed  our  weary  heads  to  pray, 
And  angels  bore  our  babe  away. 

I  could  not  leave  that  lock  to  mould 
Within  the  lonely  tomb  ; 

That  quenchless  spark  of  living  gold, 
To  light  so  drear  a  gloom ; 

And  now  with  mournful  hearts  we  kiss 
That  Little  Curl,  that  once  was  his. 


MY  MOTHER’S  GRAVE. 


I  am  standing  by  thy  grave,  mother, 
And  an  autumn’s  sun  has  set, 

But  its  purple  rays,  its  golden  light, 

Is  lingering  o’er  me  yet. 

No  murmur  stirreth  in  the  trees, 

No  whisper  on  the  hill ; 

The  very  air  grows  like  my  heart, 

So  heavy,  and  so  chill. 

I  am  standing  by  thy  grave,  mother, 
But  memory  wanders  free  ; 

Fond  recollections  !  happy  hours, 

My  childhood  knew  with  thee. 

But  she  who  watched  my  youthful  steps, 
Who  shared  each  smile,  each  tear, 
Lies  cold  and  lifeless  in  the  tomb, 
Mother,  so  loved,  so  dear  I 

I  am  standing  by  thy  grave,  mother, 
’Neath  the  cold,  unfeeling  sod, 

And  can  I  wish  to  call  thee  back? 

Thy  dwelling  is  with  God  ; 

And  when  is  past  this  wearied  life, 

This  pilgrimage  of  mine, 

May  I  sleep  then  by  thy  side,  mother, 
And  my  spirit  blbnd  with  thine  I 


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